


If I were less insane, I'd take offense, but now this just amuses me

by KusakabeNAyako



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker is done with everyone's shit, Anakin go get some therapy, Anakin is channeling his inner Lord Shen, Consent is a little blurred here, Dark Anakin Skywalker, Expect references, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote this in quarantine, No Anakin seriously, Or hate to love?, Sith Anakin Skywalker, Sith Shenanigans (Star Wars), Suitless Darth Vader, Vader is the Sith the Jedi love to hate, What am I doing with my life?, references to Miraj/Vader (yes really)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 85,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KusakabeNAyako/pseuds/KusakabeNAyako
Summary: Ahsoka Tano hated Darth Vader with passion. Alright, that is not strictly speaking accurate, she didn't hate him. Sure, he was a self-assured dick, but at least he was insane... that sounded more logical in her head. Let's start anew.Darth Vader is an insane prick and the galaxy is somehow, beyond all reason, better for it.a.k.a.Anakin was never a Jedi, but he was trained from the age 5 by a moraly grey-ish force sensitive group. Sidious took interest because he is a creep and now Vader is his henchman until he can get his team back.After that, all of the fucking bets are mother fuckin off.
Relationships: Asajj Ventress/Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Vader
Comments: 183
Kudos: 332





	1. Off you go then, what are you waiting for?

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate universe thingy.  
> My knowledge of Star Wars lore is superficial at best.  
> I'm just trying to have some fun to ease my depression.  
> Chapters might not be necessaringly linear, but I try.  
> Sorry.  
> If you're here for the Vader/Ventress thing (first of all, don't do that to yourself), it starts from ch 6 and it aint really graphic.  
> Every mistake is mine, cause English is nowhere near my first language.

Vader found the little Togruta adorable.

The Jedi Padawan was a true spitfire, quick to action and even quicker to mouth back. Not very Jedi of her, true, but that’s what made all of this so amusing. It further stroked his curiosity that despite her nature, she shone bright in the force like a beacon. No trace of the Dark Side taking any particular interest in her. Despite being quick to anger, she was quick to calm down too, so that was a point for her. Except, of course, for a few major issues.

Like now.

She was pouting something adorable in her force binder cuffs as Vader twirled her light sabers between his fingers. They’ve reached an impasse five minutes ago when she refused to ‘play by the games of Dooku’s lapdog’ and flat out told him that her Master will come and save her, kicking Vader’s ass in the process.

“I’m sure he will Snips.” He chuckled at the flare of annoyance in her force signature. She hated that nickname with passion. “It’s not like the Negotiator to leave his Padawan in trouble.”

Vader stood up from the table and stretched like a lazy cat. Every muscle in his body was aching just because Sidious most likely jacked off to torturing his ‘apprentices’ with force lightning. One of these days Vader’s going to get tired of this game of his and show his light saber down on that guy’s throat. One of these days.

As soon as he got his team back. He’s going to locate and free each and every one of them, take them to safety. And then he’s going to have a … _chat_ with Tyrannus and Sidious. Right after cutting down their pet General. Ventress, he might spare. The young apprentice was never snotty to him. Sure, she wasn’t respectful, but she was civil. Vader was sure this was only because his titanic presence in the force made her think twice about everything that came out of her mouth. He could crush her windpipe with a hard glance.

“I just wish he’d hurry up. Things are getting boring around here.”

“What? Ran out of officers to choke?”

Vader groaned.

“That was _one time_ Snips. One. Time.” _As far as you know, anyway. “_ That idiot cost us an entire facility. He was not hired to give free points for the Republic. I had to make an example of him. It’s called a deterrent.”

“Couldn’t you just discharge him?”

“How is discharging a deterrent? Everyone wants to be discharged, nobody wants to be dead.”

Vader was sure if the Padawan had feathers, they would’ve been ruffled like an angry bird. She really reminded him of a younger version of Alia, except Alia cursed like a Tatooine smuggler. He kind of hoped Kenobi would arrive soon. At least before Tyrannus decides that he could torture out some minor information from the young Commander.

The sirens began to scream.

_Ah, ask and ye shall receive._

Seconds later the door opened behind him and he turned to see just the General he was thinking about. Kenobi liked to play too sophisticated to curse out loud, but his facial expressions were worth a thousand words. Though his shields have gotten _much_ more effective since their last little brawl. Impressive, considering he is a Jedi in a war zone. One might think that all this death and negative emotions would destroys even a revered Knight’s center, but alas, here he stood.

Vader really _really_ wanted to pick at his brain and see what made him so thick.

Right behind the General, two clones came into the room, their helmets off. Once all three men’s gaze found the Padawan and realized that she was unhurt (which _rude_ , Vader might’ve been a tad evilish, but he wasn’t a _monster)_ they settled their eyes back on him. He stood taller, a playful grin on his face, hand folded before him in a mock gesture of the Jedi stance.

“Well, good day Gentlemen. Or is it evening already? Padawan Tano and I just had a little chat and I honestly have no idea what time is it.”

It was clear that the clones wanted to uppercut him into the bridge for the implications, but Kenobi, dear, revered, _infuriatingly calm_ General Kenobi only forced a smile that didn’t look forced at all. Alas, there might be some skills worth learning from a Jedi. The universe and its curious oddities.

“Lord Vader. I apologize for disturbing the conversation, but my Padawan and I have urgent business on our own ship. Preferably in hyper space.”

“I understand.”

Vader shrugged, freeing the young Jedi with a flick of his wrist from her force binding cuffs. He even placed the girl’s light sabers on the table and rolled them towards her, much to the puzzlement of everyone present. She took the weapons with a narrowed, distrusting gaze.

When no one dared to move, he made ushering motions towards the door.

“Well, off you go then! Since I love a fair fight, I’ll give you, hm, let’s say, ten seconds for a head start!”

Even the famous Negotiator was caught off guard by this. Which is understandable. Vader had kind of a reputation of being no-nonsense and cutting the chatter with the business end of his light saber, but to be honest, he was kind of feeling like a dick. Sidious put him in a foul mood with his own mood swings and now Vader had every intention of being petty. The Jedi very lucky, _really._ Otherwise Kenobi would already be short a limb at least. Preferably two.

But messing with Sidious? That was just too good to pass on.

“I… don’t really know how to address this situation.” It seems even the Negotiator could be rendered speechless.

Vader 10 / Kenobi 7 and yes, that business on Cato Neimoidia _does count._

Feeling Tyrannus storming their way as they were speaking, Vader only looked at his holo watch while igniting his own light saber with the other hand. He began to count down. Loud and long. He barely finished ‘ten’ and the republic team already scrambled out the door and started running.

… right towards Tyrannus.

Feeling annoyance bubble in his chest Vader raised his eyes towards the ceiling with a barely contained sneer.

“Really? Of _all the directions they could go_! Force kriff me!”

One of these days he’s going to run out of fucks to give.

One of these days.


	2. I am not a baby sitter, Kenobi, learn to take care of yourself

Vader felt like he was walking on clouds.

Sidious, or more like, Chancellor Palpatine was ‘captured’ a few minutes ago. Dragged out of hyper-space and taken hostage. Some little Senator got caught up in the crossfire. Amidala or Anidala, or something like that. No bother, they’ll get separate cells. He was descending the stairs to meet with the two prisoners and …

He almost turned around on his heel when he saw Kenobi standing there, in force binding cuffs, looking anything but pleased. Because no. Just no. Why does the force mess with his fun? Every. Kriffin. Time. He had a reputation to uphold, for Kent’s sake! There’s only so many times Kenobi can slip away between his fingers and land of his legs like the lovechild of an eel and a cat and…

…well, there’s a mental picture he didn’t need, but moving on,

The problem was that Vader _liked_ the General. Sure, there were times when Kenobi should’ve been grateful for the space between them, else he might just _strangle_ the man with his own hands for ruining his plans, but playing around with the Jedi was _fun._

Darth Vader, Kind of Dark Lord of the Sith, loved playing around with the Jedi in general.

Unlike Grievous, who was a brute and a butcher, cutting down every Jedi in his path, Vader liked to think that he was above obsessive killing. He had no quarrel with the Jedi, his teaching didn’t clash with theirs, despite that bantha shit Sidious tried to force down on his throat. And he was sure the Jedi Order was catching up. During the year he was blackmailed (only a kind of stale mate, he still had some cards left) to join the Separatist leadership, he had a run in with dozens and dozens of Jedi and all of them walked away. Mostly intact, anyway.

Nowadays, the ‘battles’ between him and the Jedi were banters. As far as he was concerned, the Jedi understood. ‘Give me a distraction to pursue, and run for the other direction.’ It was the only kind of fun he’s got to have in this miserable dispute.

But Kenobi was _really_ stretching his nerves. Just for that, Vader’s going to slap him around a bit in his holding cell before the rescue team arrives and he gets away. Inevitably. _Again._

_Oh, Sidious is going to whip my ass six ways to Sunday for this._

“You cannot execute political prisoners! He is a valuable hostage!”

Ah, the little Senator had quite a commanding voice. Are all women like this in the Republic? Vader was starting to get jealous. Besides Ventress, you barely _see_ a woman here. Vader has _needs_ too, but his is not _that_ desperate. And the Senator was beautiful too. A petite woman with an angelic face, blooming red in her anger, her eyes gleaming like two dark supernovas.

(Dark supernovas? Really, Anakin? Really? How did you manage that?)

_My, Lord Vader, are we smitten already?_

(Shut up.)

“He is a Jedi scum and he’ll meet his end at my blade right n-“

Vader decided that this was the perfect time to interrupt the cyborg’s rant.

“Yes General, you are so very tough, we all see your muscles.” Everyone turned towards him and Kenobi _actually relaxed, what the-_ Kenobi! Get your shit together! That is not how you react to a Sith Lord! That is the exact opposite of how you react to a Sith Lord!

“Lord Vader.” It was always a funny sight how the droid general cowered before him.

“Go to the bridge, I’ll sort this out.” _Now_. He didn’t say, but his eyes were commanding enough.

“But the Jedi-“

“Is an extremely valuable hostage who will not come to any harm, less you wish to anger me further, which I would advise against since my patience towards your disobedience has been rapidly deteriorating in the past two weeks.”

_My, that came out smoother than I expected, well done Vader._

Getting the message, the droid general left for the bridge with a last bow. Once he was done, Vader turned towards the hostages. All three of them were looking at him with confusion, which, fair but uncomfortable all the same. Being a loose cannon had is perks, but as everything, it must have its drawbacks as well. Can you call two gaping politicians as a drawback? He’ll call them that anyway.

“Chancellor Palpatine, I apologize if any mistreatment has befallen your person. I’ve yet to find out what strike of madness keeps possessing my Master to keep him around.”

Was that an eyebrow twitch? It _was._ It’s decided. Badmouthing Sidious to Palpatine’s face is now proudly standing at the third place in Vader’s most enjoyable freedoms in life.

“Nothing severe, Lord Vader, just a little manhandling. And I’m sure your… Master has seen some worth in the General to keep him.”

Vader smiled at this, not even a little teasing.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on this, Chancellor.” He then turned towards the woman, who was even more breathtaking from up close. And her face gained a little more color when their gazes met, so that’s a _score_ , no matter what anyone says. “I don’t believe we’ve head the pleasure before Senator. I am Darth Vader.”

“Padmé Amidala.” He kissed her fingers for good measure and could taste Kenobi’s eyeroll in the force. The Knight always had an ‘Oh, stop it’ energy around him whenever Vader decided to flirt with the closest woman. The Senator looked like she wanted to wretch her fingers from his grasp, but decided againt it. Better not fall on the bad side of the only polite person on the ship. That’s another score.

_She totally likes me, Kenobi._

“It’s an honor Senator Amidala. I regret the rough treatment and the harsh words of my General. I hope he didn’t offend you too much.”

“He is a brute that’s for sure.” She was adorable when she grumbled.

Then Vader turned towards Kenobi. As soon as their gazes met, the enemy General did his best to show how unimpressed he was with Vader’s shenanigans. Pity. For him. Vader’s _so getting_ a ‘thank you’ from him for saving his ass. But everything in due time.

“General. I’m starting to think that I’d best reserve a cell for you, seeing that we meet like this every month.”

“That would be unnecessary Lord Vader, I don’t plan on staying long, but the offer is much appreciated.”

Leave it to Kenobi to annoy him back. Vader felt his smile twitch in synch with his hand. _One of these days Kenobi and I’m going to strangle you, but at least punch that smirk off your face._

“Well, the offer will remain open all the same. Now Gentlemen and My Lady, allow me to escort you to your cells. I know they do not meet your usual standards, but in times of war I’m afraid one must cut corners when it comes to money.”

Some part of Vader was trying to find out why did he even bother.

He could already feel that adorable Padawan sneaking around the ventilation system.

How the kriff is this his life?

He dropped off Sidious in a better cell, leaving him for later and led the other two down the hallway. He also pretended to not hear Senator Amidala’s furious whispers about attempting to escape, since Vader left the droid guards at Palpatine’s cell with the explicit order that _no one_ is allowed to enter, or he’s going to sever _limbs._ She was adorable. Thinking she can make get rid of him so easily. Kenobi tried to argue with her and based on the bickering, these two were more than Senator and Jedi Knight to each other. They sounded like close friends.

“Tell me General, where is your little Padawan?”

“She’s with her own battalion now. We were meant to join them.”

Real smooth Kenobi. Your lies taste like acid and… is that cinnamon?

“Pity. I was hoping to spar with her again.”

He stopped before a cell and ushered both of them inside. Were they far enough? He hoped so. Both prisoners gave him nervous looks when he shut and sealed the door behind himself. The translator droid in the corner powered up, sensing there might be an interrogation soon, but Vader shut it down with a flick of a wrist. He also turned off the camera. Then…

“You have no idea how much I want to punch you right now.” He advanced on the Jedi, who stood his ground, _damn him,_ but Vader still sensed nervousness in his force presence. _Good._ Despite him not being at too much of an odds with his Order, he was nowhere near harmless.

The Senator tried to come closer, possibly between them, but the Jedi placated her with a calming gesture.

“I suppose that would be fair.” Kenobi confessed.

“Fair! _Fair!_ Let me tell you about fair. Fair is when I wake up in the morning, have a nice little coffee while going over my duties for the day.” To illustrate, he opened the list on his holo-watch. “I read and find, Oh look! It seems I’ll have a little meeting with the Chancellor and possibly one or two Senators while I’m at it. You what’s not in here?”

Kenobi sighed.

“A kriffin Jedi Knight! That’s what’s missing! Cause there’s no reason for any to be there.”

“It was the Chancellor’s request for me to accompany him.”

Vader stopped at this, narrowing his eyes.

“He asked _specifically_ for you?”

The General bit his lower lip.

“He only asked for a Jedi.”

“Aaand I want to punch you again. You almost had me for one second, but never mind. Let’s carry on. Now, you can either say a very meaningful thank you for me saving your ass, or I shall introduce you to my fist.”

 _Please_ choose the punch.

“Thank you Lord Vader for saving my skin. It was much appreciated.”

_Curse you, annoying but inevitable apology._

“You’re welcome.” His voice was dryer than Tatooine as he turned on his heel and stalked towards the door. “And the two of you better not be here when I come back!”

He wished he could slam hydraulic doors.

***

Obi-Wan felt the headache rapidly approaching. He had a feeling that Vader was broadcasting on purpose to get his petty revenge on him. Never the less, he’ll choose the Dark Lord’s tame fury over being gutted any day, so this was still a win, even if he didn’t feel like it. Slumping into one of the chairs, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking. He was glad to see Vader instead of Dooku or Ventress, that’s true. Vader at the bridge meant that they can escape.

But he still didn’t understand _why._ Why the dark lord was this … merciful. He was undeniably dark in the force and not entirely sane (at least Obi-Wan suspected he wasn’t), yet when it came to handling the Jedi and to some extent the clones he was almost _gentle_. It made no sense. Even Dooku, who used to be a part of the Jedi Order for decades didn’t have any qualms about killing Jedi, yet here comes this dark sider who just… doesn’t.

His force presence dwarfed everyone around him, his Djem So was masterful, though he loved to resort to dirty tricks, intimidation and illusions more, to an extent that his oppent felt like Darth Vader was omnipresent around him. But he didn’t kill. He never killed. Even when he had a clear chance, when his opponent was disarmed and defeated.

Darth Vader just laughed into their face and told them to get better until next time.

The Council was anxious about him. There was no telling how long this game will last. There might come a time when Vader decided that he had his fun with the Jedi Order. And that day would mark the beginning of a long term massacre. Obi-Wan had seen what Darth Vader was capable of when he discarded this cheerful persona.

If Death ever had a personification, it was Vader.

Unrelenting. Unbiased. Merciless.

“Obi-Wan?”

Padmé’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“What… what was all this? Is this man really Darth Vader?”

He couldn’t fault her for being lost. The Senate only heard about the man’s deeds on the battlefield. They didn’t know what an enigma he really was to the Jedi. They looked at the disturbingly young man and only saw a master of warfare and field command. Obi-Wan didn’t deny that he studied Vader’s techniques and found the man incredibly flexible in any situation. He was either a natural, or someone explicitly taught him as many tactics as possible. Or both. Likely both.

“Yes.”

“But he was so… is he always like this? Is this why no Jedi has fallen to his blade before?”

There was nothing to do, but nod.

“I don’t know why, but Vader holds no ill intent towards the Jedi Order and I’m starting to think that he has little to none quarrels with the Republic itself.”

“But then why join Dooku?”

Oh, Obi-Wan wished he could know. Maybe Vader liked the thrill of the battle. Maybe he enjoyed this cat and mouse game he was pursuing for a year now. Maybe he hoped to gain something by the end of this war. Maybe he was insane and liked to burn in the center of chaos. Kicking up every house of cards he can find, lean back and cackle at the dumbfounded faces. But no, Vader didn’t strike him as an anarchist either. He had the aura of someone who had to drag himself to work every day.

A soft click echoed in the room and Ahsoka slid into the cell.

“Ready to go?” She asked with a smile.

Padmé just gaped at her.

“How did you find us so soon?”

The Padawan shrugged.

“Vader used unnecessarily loud and well-articulated words to send droids to your cell.”

Obi-wan felt his shoulders slump in defeated and closed his eyes, a groan escaping his lips.

_Force help me._


	3. In wich a Jedi almost marries a Queen and a Sith has feelings.

“If you as much as glance down, I’m going to plunge my light saber through your stomach.”

Vader raised his hands with a mock surrender and dutifully turned his head away. He hoped Kenobi was around here somewhere. They were here for him after all. He still had to stifle a grin every time he thought about his kind-of-not-exactly-nemesis’s situation. Because yes, Vader too can do stupid things while drunk, but accidentally marrying the Lazurian Queen while _sober_? A snort escaped him.

_Hang on there, Kenobi, and watch out for the tentacles._

“This is ridiculous! Why do I have to wear this? This is practically transparent!”

Ah, it seems the Padawan was still grumbling about her dress. Vader rolled his eyes.

“Compared to this planet’s fashion, you’ll look _modest._ ”

Tano sent him a glare, but quickly averted her eyes with a swear on her lips. Vader found it hilarious. And not even a little flattering, to be honest. His robes didn’t show _that_ much. But seeing the Jedi males were always folded into multiple layers, he supposed even this much was something the young girl didn’t see often. Jedi or no Jedi, she was a teenager.

“Give me your cloak.”

“Oh, come on! You’ll be fine. No one’s going to even glance at you in this dress. They’ll go for the golden bikinis and transparent veils and the–“

“Give. Me. Your. Cloak.”

“Careful now, Snips. I agreed to help you find him, but I didn’t sign up to be pushed around.”

The Padawan audibly swallowed and her force presence trembled. Vader met them many, _many_ times on field already and the Master-Padawan duo tended to forget that he wasn’t a trusted friend, but a reluctant ally _at best_. It’s true, Vader liked to play nice and get what he wanted without violence since he was raised a _Commander_ , and as a Commander, his job was to keep the situation from escalation, achieve the objective of the mission and get his team back home to safety. Despite his skills with the blade, charm was his first to go to weapon.

But sometimes the people around him needed a reminder about just who they were dealing with.

Never the less, he walked over to the wardrobe and rummaged through the veils and dresses until he found something that’ll do. A nice, less transparent shawl that matched the color of her eyes. Without looking he threw it at her.

“Wrap this around your shoulders and cower your chest. I suggest we head out after that if you don’t want your Master to consummate his happy marriage.”

He could _feel_ the daggers aimed at his way, but no further complaints came. Offering his arm, he turned around with a smirk.

“Shall we go them, my lady?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s.”

***

He wished he had a holo camera to capture Kenobi’s face when he went up the queen with Tano on his arm. It was _hilarious._ This blasted planet had a natural force suppressor field in its atmosphere, so he could barely feel his reaction in the force, but even that was _glorious._ He bowed his head deep to the queen.

“Your Grace! Tales cannot do enough justice to your beauty!”

He kissed her hand and enjoyed the pleased excitement rolling off of her.

“I admit you have me at disadvantage, my lord…”

“Anakin, Your Grace. Anakin Skywalker, at your service.”

“My, what an enchanting name. Skywalker. I’ve never heard of such name before.”

Bringing out is most flirty smile, he bowed his head once more.

“Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to entertain Your Grace with its tale, if you’ll honor me with a dance.”

The queen laughed, the tentacles on her head twirling in delight. She then turned to his companion who was in the middle of trying to communicate with her Master through her eyes. It didn’t take much to figure out that the queen didn’t like another woman eyeing his for-now-only-soon-to-be-husband. Oh, if they’re going to have a hiss-fight, Vader’s getting out of here. He knew well enough not to be near when a woman’s fury is set on the loose.

“I believe I haven’t been introduced to your companion.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace that is entirely my fault. This is Fulcrum Skywalker, my step-niece.”

“A pleasure, Your Grace.” Vader stifled a sigh. Could Tano at least _sound_ polite?

The queen huffed out some pleasantries and then introduced Kenobi to them, who is apparently called Ben for his disastrous stealth mission. Vader didn’t pay much attention to him, rather focused on working his charms on the queen until he was able to coax her into a dance. After the third dance in a row, he _really hoped_ Tano got away with Kenobi, because the queen was now flirting _back_ and he might find _himself_ in the Republic General’s position very soon.

When finally he saw the other two, he made an excuse about seeing his niece slip away with someone her mother wouldn’t appreciate. He left the scene after them with feigned disappointment and fury.

He barely closed the door behind himself when the beginnings of a commotion became audible.

The queen noticed that her soon-to-be-husband has been consort-napped.

Oh, this is going to be _glorious._

***

“You are crazy!”

“You are just no fun!”

“Turn! Turn!”

“Both of you shut up, I can’t aim like this!”

It was indeed _glorious._

Just about the whole army of the planet was chasing them. Vader stole a speeder, Kenobi was clinking to his waist for dear life while Tano was sitting before him, turned towards the back and shooting at the pursuers with a blaster in each hand. The city was like a maze and Vader intended to loose everyone on his trail before going to his own ship.

That meant that he was taking sharp turns in every direction, almost crashing into buildings or other vehicles multiple times and one time almost lost Tano with a sharp break.

It was their luck really that Vader so impossibly potent in the Force, since despite the nature of the planet, he was still able to use his senses to a great extent. That didn’t mean that this little trip was any less terrifying for his two passengers, but at least Tano had something else to concentrate on.

“How many Snips?”

“Six.”

“Good. We’ll lose them in the Undercity.”

“Undercity?” Force, Vader loved _panic._

After two short turns, he guided the speeder down towards a tunnel and shot into the darkness.

***

“You are a kriffing _maniac._ ”

Both Jedi were sitting on his ship’s floor in the cockpit, drawing deep breaths to calm themselves. Vader found it understandable but also hilarious. Kenobi told him that they felt nothing of the Force in the planet, so they didn’t have the luxury of their usual instincts and forewarnings. Which meant that they didn’t feel the side tunnel, only saw the train coming at them in full speed.

Pity. Though who would’ve thought that a little speeder action would reduce the renowned Negotiator and his Padawan into two jelly puddles on his floor? One would think the war is more stressing.

“Jury’s out.” He said, while avoiding the closer asteroids, slowly this time. “So, where can I drop you off?”

“Coruscant?”

“Ha ha, Snips.”

“It was worth a try.”

“I’m serious though. I can’t take you to enemy territory, but I can drop you off in any neutral planet of your choosing.”

He left those two to find out where they want to go. While they were bickering and checking up on each other, Vader leaned into the doorway and closed his eyes, slowly peeling off this newest memory and the emotions that came with it. So much childish glee would tip off Sidious and then Vader would have another date with Sith lightning and _fuck that noise._

He took a glance at the pair, the Padawan fussing over her Master like a mother hen and felt something uncoil in his chest. Closing his eyes, he thought about his own team. Though they’d never be this openly affectionate, each of them had their way of showing love. His hand clenched into a fist. He _will_ get them back. Soon. As soon as the Jedi begin to _trust him-_

Kenobi’s words startled him out of his thoughts.

“We are ready to go.”

He shot a disturbing grin towards the man, earning an eye roll.

“Good! Let’s get out of here then!”

Was that a fond smile Kenobi? Careful now, you’re going to lose you edge if you go on like this.

One of these days.


	4. Playing house with a Sith Lord? Had worse ideas anyway

“Are you sober?”

“I’m moderately functional.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

He laughed at Kenobi’s long suffering sigh and downed another glass, much to the dismay of the man next to him. Tano was muttering curses that had no place in a Jedi Padawan’s mouth and the two clones were trying their best to mask the absolute shock on their faces. Vader liked them. The clones. They had a sense of loyalty he respected above anything else.

“Are you alone?”

He blinked up at Kenobi and right, maybe he _should_ stop his hand before the seventh glass reaches his mouth, but when was he ever about self-control? Maybe he can die of alcohol poisoning. Then none of this shit would matter anymore and Alia could strangle him for an eternity for failing to rescue them.

“So alone. Lonely and friendless. A single man against the vast universe.”

“Gosh, you are so drunk.”

“Shut up, Tano, you’re not the boss of me.”

“No one else with you? Droids? Ventress?”

“Leave me be, Kenobi.” he slurred, turning back to his bottle. “If you’re going to dice me up, do it in silence.”

His alcohol was snatched away from his hand via the force. The glare he shot towards the elder Jedi would disassemble a droid, yet the older man simply glared back in an exasperated manner. They were sizing each other up for a few seconds and Vader tried to figure out how much of a chance he stood against the two Jedi and two clones so piss drunk when things will inevitably turn ugly.

His whole body went rigid when the General took a step closer, effectively cutting off the distance between them, reached out and… pulled him away from the bar. No, scratch that, he pulled Vader’s arm over his head and tried to pull him away completely, both to everyone else’s utter bafflement.

“What are you…”

“You are drunk and in no condition to protect yourself. You’re coming with me to safety.”

Vader looked up at the Padawan and the clones (he really wanted to know their name, calling them clones was just _rude)_ with a questioning expression, only to see them exasperated instead of surprised. Those three idiots were on board with this. Moreover, one of them walked over to him and put his other arm over his neck.

“This is kidnapping, you know? They are kidnapping me!”

No one paid attention in this shithole, because of course they didn’t. The girl shot him a dirty look.

“Keep your voice down idiot, don’t make a fuss.”

“But Tanooo~”

“How can you be more childish than I am?”

Vader stuck out his tongue towards her in response, but let himself be dragged away by the small group. The cold air outside made him groan and stagger for a moment, but the General and his man were there to hold him up. The walk made his head dizzy and his stomach do a few flips, but luckily from everyone, he didn’t start to reintroduce the pricey alcohol to the world just yet.

He was led into a small hotel room with two extra bed. One of the clones was tasked to watch over him in case he got into the mood for doing anything suspicious while he voluntarily prayed before the white altar for minutes. He pitied the guy. No doubt this wasn’t mentioned in his training. Holding the enemy’s cape while said enemy cursed the very day he was born.

He laughed when the clone threw a bottle of water towards him with a scowl.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“I want to stop calling you ‘clone’ in my head, cause that’s just _rude_ and you don’t deserve rude, you guys are the one I respect the most in this whole misery.”

The clone stopped at this, his whole body freezing up. When he spoke next, his tone was much more guarded, but even drunk, Vader sensed the curiosity under the surface.

“And why is that?”

Vader washed his face at the sink and then drank the whole bottle, maneuvering the plastic into the garbage can with the force. So his control was still unaffected. _Good._ Holding himself up on the two sides of the sink, he took a glance at his reflection. Even the excessive drinking didn’t manage to hide away the effects this wretched war had on him. Dark shadows under his eyes, pale skin, haunted gaze, sunken cheeks. Force, he missed his team so much.

“Comradeship. Loyalty. Courage.” Faces flashed before his eyes and his heart clenched at the thought. “I saw a Captain once. He went back to save three of his men, risking his own life. One time I saw a clone who’d been gripping his brother’s thigh for a whole rotation to keep him from bleeding to death. Force, there are no words how high I regard you all.”

For a moment, he clenched his teeth together and his grip tightened on the sink. The force around him became tense, like a krayt dragon, ready to lunge at anything and anyone. A small line began to travel up on the mirror, threatening to blow the whole thing into shards.

Kenobi came storming into the room, light saber ready on one hand, but not turned on yet.

“What’s happening here?” His voice was far from friendly. Glad to see he cared about his men.

Vader wanted to scream. Instead, he grinned at the General.

“Sorry, did I disturb you? We were just chatting with your man-“

“Rex.”

At first, he was ready to launch himself back into the explanation, but then the force rang true around him and Vader realized that the trooper (Rex, his name was _Rex._ ) told him the truth. More than that. He wasn’t only honest, he was _honest_. Open and in awe and had mutual respect. Kenobi too noticed the chance and looked from one of them to the other.

“Rex” He tried the name. It felt _right._ “and I were just chatting.”

“It’s alright, General. He didn’t do anything.”

“As much as I trust your judgment, Captain, you don’t know him. I’ve never met anyone more dangerous or capable. I’ll take your place now, go and join Cody at the door.”

 _Rex_ sent one last careful glance towards Vader, but then saluted and left to do as told. The Jedi and the Sith remained alone, the soft click of the door sealing their privacy. Vader didn’t look at the General, instead he began peel off his armor, trying to let some air touch his skin and reduce the heat he felt.

“Did you do anything to him?”

“I’m not a monster, Kenobi. I don’t rape people’s minds.”

“No. You’re not. My apologies.”

Vader let out a dry snort and sunk down besides the wall, pushing his back against the cold tiles. He was progressing if a Jedi Knight, no wait, he was a _Master_ now, right, so a Jedi Master believed he wasn’t capable to force his will over other people’s minds and plant ideas into their head. Even though his goal was to make the Jedi trust him, his throat was still tight at the thought. Kriffing alcohol.

“Done alerting your precious council?”

“You knew.”

“Of course I knew, Kenobi, I’m not stupid.”

Vader sunk his fingers into his golden locks and let out a soft curse. If the council knew, Sidious will find out too. Wonderful. He came to this bar to forget about the burning sensation all over his body and now he’ll have to go back for more just because Kenobi has a habit of picking up dangerous strays.

“They said this will not be mentioned anywhere.”

This, admittedly, caught him off guard. He looked up at the Jedi Master in astonishment.

“Why the kriff not?”

The man slowly, very carefully, came closer and lowered himself to his knees beside him. For some reason, Vader felt cornered. The alcohol muddied up his mind a little too much for this situation and he was afraid for the unintended signs he was dropping. Kenobi was a very perceptive bastard. It wouldn’t do good for him to figure things out too fast.

The Jedi said nothing.

“Why, Kenobi? Why bring me here? Why aren’t you cutting me down? Do you have any idea how out of character you are acting for one of your status?”

“And what about you, Vader? You don’t kill Jedi, despite being a Sith. You always look away when one of us gets captured and escapes. You treat prisoners of war with respect. And don’t think we didn’t notice you reducing casualties.”

They noticed. This was supposed to be good, a step forward in him getting their trust, their _help._ He was supposed to double down now, abuse it as much as possible, and yet… force, Tyrannus was right, the Jedi are fools. He wanted to grab Kenobi by the shoulder and shake him, because _does he hear himself?_ He is trusting Vader because he shows signs of being a _decent human being?_ He shuddered to think what will happen if this gets into Sidious’s ear. He’ll train another apprentice just so they can present themselves as another Vader and then stab the Jedi in the back the moment they turn around and Vader…

Vader wanted to protect them. Force help him, maybe it was just the alcohol influencing him and bringing all of his flashes of guilt front and center, but he liked these idiots. They were flawed, but good. If only someone could show them that their blatant rejection of feelings and attachment was not so dangerous-

_But it is. Look at you. Look at what you did for six people. You are actively tearing the galaxy to shreds to get them back. Look at the crumpling pieces of morality you cling to and then look into their eyes and tell them they are wrong._

“Obi-Wan.” The man’s eyes grew at the sound of his first name and his body went still. “You Jedi are compassionate. Flawed, but still so good. Don’t let them destroy you. Don’t trust the likes of me.”

“Vader… what?”

_What are you doing, idiot! You’re ruining everything!_

(I can’t let them be lead into slaughter like this) 

_Kriff them! Pull yourself together! What of your team? Alia? Ronan? All of them? You’ll throw them away for a bunch of dogmatic fools?_

(How can I be their Commander again if I lose myself? If the man they chose to follow crumbles to dust?) 

_So what if they leave you? At least they’ll be alive. This is your selfishness again. Poor little Anakin with no skirt to hide behind. You are doomed anyway, aren’t you idiot? Everyone knows your face now, you’ll be either a criminal or the lap dog of Sidious for the rest of your miserable-_

“Vader. Look at me! Snap out of it!”

He wrenched his arm away from the man’s hold and stumbled backwards into the shower. Kenobi was surprised by the outburst, but every inch of his face was filled with worry. Vader hated it. Hated his kriffin pity and this kriffin situation and hated _himself_ so much…

“Don’t touch me again!” He hissed, eyes blazing yellow.

The Jedi Master showed his hands in the universal sign of surrender and slowly got up. Vader searched for his light saber on instinct, but then remembered that they took it from him when they entered the hotel room. Luckily for everyone involved, Kenobi was perceptive enough to back out from the room and close the door, giving him space to calm down alone.

Alone. He was alone again. And now he will be forever.

_‘Your heart is your best part, my little Ani. You can’t stay by and watch people suffer.’_

“I can’t choose mom.” He said, gripping his head with both hands. “I can’t choose between them and the galaxy.”

_‘If shit goes sideways, choose your team, Anakin. Before the mission. Before yourself. Before the kriffin galaxy. They’ll give their life to save yours. You’ll give yours to save them. That’s your job as a Commander. That’s your job as a leader.’_

He needed to rescue his team. It was his job, his _purpose_. He knew them since he was _five_ , for force’s sake. He was trained to lead and guide and protect them, value them more than the galaxy itself, more than his own health and sanity. To choose them over his very soul. Even if it meant giving a deadly blade against the Jedi into Sidious’ hand. Even if it meant abusing their trust, to use them to free his team and then disappear forever into a safe place to lick his wounds.

He needed the Jedi to do what he cannot do alone.

'I’m not a monster, Kenobi.'

_Yeah. You’re just a kriffin Liar._

***

He spent the night in the bathroom, using the shower as some make-shift shelter. Force, if Tyrannus would see him now, he’ll never hear the end of it. The most powerful Sith Lord to ever exist, shivering on the cold tile wrecked by self-loathing and desperation. But what the kriff do they know about the Dark Side? The Dark feeds on _suffering,_ not brooding. Anger, thirst for revenge, thirst for cruelty, fear, they all lead to suffering.

He was aware that he was projecting. He’ll blame the alcohol. And the _kriffin_ headache.

“Force, kill me.” He muttered into his knees. Just let him die right there.

“You decent?” Came Tano’s _loud kriffin voice._

“No, I’m naked. Come in and paint me like one of your French girls.”

“What the kriff are you on?”

“I’ll put soap into your mouth.” He threatened.

Tano came into the room and allowed the mouth-watering smell of toast and tea to enter alongside her. Oh, and light. Kriff everything. With a groan, he pushed his face even further in between his knees, trying to block out the bane of his existence.

“You look shit.”

“Geez, what a flirt.”

“You stink like shit too.”

“Tano if you only came here to sass my ass, leave. I have voices in my head for that.”

_Isn’t that the truth?_

“Take a shower. Here. It should fit enough.”

She threw some robes at the floor (probably Kenobi’s spare one) and then intentionally shut the door again with a loud bang. (Oh, the next time you get captured, I’m going to make you listen to the Separatist Recruit Speech _on loop_ ). But he knew he won’t get any food if he leaves this place still smelling like a garbage compactor, so he might as well comply.

After a long shower and his robes stuffed into the washing machine, he gave some dirty glances towards Kenobi’s robes. They’ll look ridiculous on him. Too short on the limbs. He’ll make a clown out of himself.

_Or you can just go out naked._

(Good idea. You should write a book. How to give your enemies PTSD in three steps or less.)

…

(…)

Though, there’s an idea…

He decided to heed the voice’s advice and take just the pants. Those looked like they could be stretched enough to not look _completely_ ridiculous. Force, how is this his life again? Drying his hair with the towel, he stole one last glance at the mirror and… oh. Yeah. He can’t wait to get a chance to make sausage out of Sidious. His back now officially looked like he had a tree tattooed on it in red. And the scars… Force, the scars.

(I can’t even remember the time when I didn’t have scars)

_Oh, cry me a river. You never had issues with them before._

(There weren’t any before I didn’t earn with sweat and blood. Any that hadn’t showed that I learned something in the hard way. A mistake I’ll never make again. Now it’s just a patchwork art of a psychotic Sith Lord.)

Deciding to stop being openly depressed and get down to his act (was it really an act anymore?), he threw the towel on the top of the rest of the laundry and opened the door. Four heads turned to him the second he stepped out, but Tano turned away just as fast, throwing curses about ‘perverted Sith Lords’.

The other three at the table were gaping at him in horror. He paid them no attention just sunk into the last available seat and began to pack his plate. More like make a mountain out of toasts and pancakes and everything else he can get his hands on.

“Are you going to eat _all_ of that?”

“You can’t make me self-conscious about my weight, Tano, I burn away exactly as much as I want.”

“You clearly don’t know the meaning of decency, so why am I surprised?”

“Be glad then that it doesn’t show how much I eat.”

There it was again, the guilt. His gaze locked with Kenobi’s who just managed to tear his eyes away from the scars on his chest, face a shade paler than healthy. _Rex_ and _Cody_ weren’t any better. He kept the Jedi Master’s gaze while biting into a pancake in a particularly _vicious_ way.

“It’s official.” Rex said. “This is the worse breakfast I’ve ever had.”

Vader snorted.

“You’ve clearly never eaten with Tyrannus before.” He stretched the last word in an amused manner, while putting another slice of bacon into his mouth.

“You guys eat together? Like a big happy family?” Tano was a treasure and Vader will have _words_ with anyone who doesn’t appreciate her enough.

“No, thank the force for small mercies. I’m pretty sure we’d tear each other to pieces. How about you? Do this often?”

This was the most chaotic energy he’s ever felt in a room. He _loved it._

“We have a common canteen, so nothing this small, except on missions.”

Despite his initial shock, Kenobi now regained his composure and ate with a fork and a knife. If Vader didn’t believe Obi-Wan being of Tyrannus’ lineage before, it was clear as day now. Both were just oozing the same ‘holier than thou’ aura, except Kenobi was more fatherly, while Tyrannus’ was the grumpy patriarch who was only invited out of necessity and always started a conversation with ‘And what are your plans for the future’ while silently judging before you even open your mouth.

Ronan can be really descriptive of dysfunctional families. He’d hate Tyrannus with _passion._

“This is so awkward.” Tano muttered to her plate.

“My clothes will be dry in half an hour, I’m sure your chastity will endure.”

“Not that, asshole, I’m getting used to you being shameless. I mean this whole ‘break bread with thy enemy’ thing. It feels disturbingly… natural.” Just as Vader said. A treasure.

“You think that’s what’s happening? What, expect me to defect once the hangover blows over?”

While three of them cursed, Kenobi just put on one of those ‘what can you do’ smiles.

“It was too much to hope for, wasn’t it?”

“We aren’t there yet, luv’.”

“Yet?”

Vader swallowed a big sip of tea (this is why he’ll never be a Jedi, this wasn’t tea this was a bio weapon) and glanced up at the ridiculously hopeful faces of the group. But it’s not like he can fault them. Vader is the type of guy who will inspire a Republic wide cheer the moment he is down and out of the fight. A thorn amongst thorns.

“They have has something that’s mine. Once I get it back, kriff the Sith and the Separatists for all I care. I didn’t join this shit show because one of those force awful recruitment speeches, you know.”

Kenobi and Tano shared a glance. Hook, line and sinker.

_I hope there’s a special kind of place in Hell for you to burn after this._

(I’ve heard Mustafar is pretty hot in this part of the year)

“Maybe we can help you get it back?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t plan to pass on my leash to someone else, I’d rather to get rid of it.”

“But maybe-“

“No, Kenobi. It’s… far too precious for me to trust it in someone else’s hands and no offence, but despite this play house, we are still _enemies._ I appreciate you saving my hide last night, though it was absolutely unnecessary. I’ll repay you somehow. But that won’t one of our ‘mutual benefit’ missions, nor one of those ‘help for fun’ adventures. I just…” He groaned and rubbed his face with one hand. Reverse psychology at its finest. Force have mercy on his soul. “I know you are a Jedi and all, but imagine if Tyrannus took Tano hostage. No, even worse, imagine she was _the last living Jedi_ besides you and still your Padawan. Would _you_ trust _me_ to get her back?”

Kenobi frowned.

_Slow down, you are dropping too much hints._

“It’s not the same though. You work for Tyrannus. I don’t.”

“And how can you be so _sure_ about _that?”_

He slammed his fork down for good measure, channeling his ever present anger to mislead them and then stopped stock still. Slowly, one by one, all of them paled, realization sinking into their gaze. Good. Done. Time for a retreat. He bit his lower lip, murmured a thanks for the food and abruptly stood up, locking himself into the bathroom once more.

_See? It wasn’t so hard? You got them to start to look into the right direction._

(Shut. Up.)

He was making a progress. He already dropped his real name when they were rescuing Kenobi. Now he flat out told them he stayed at the Separatists out of necessity. He even made a very loose parallel with Tano that would lead them to look for close acquaintances while also sowing the seeds of doubt in them concerning their out-of-Order superiors.

Along with the reverse psychology he used, he somehow fortified them against future apprentices who’d use their sympathy like he did, with the exception of them jumping onto the opportunity to team up, exposing themselves or at least arousing suspicion in the progress.

(If only Kent would see me now. Actual planning and everything.)

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He was lucky all of them were caught off guard by his half nudity enough to not check the bathroom. They didn’t find his equipment, alas they didn’t know he could use a small grappling hook to get away from a fifth level room. He almost couldn’t believe that things were going this smoothly, despite his small breakdown that was _totally just the alcohol talking_. They were either playing him like a fiddle or…

Or they never stood a chance.


	5. Twelve younglings, a Master, a Sith Lord and pirates. Lots of pirates. Oh, dear...

It’s been a while since Master Shaak Ti had to enter combat.

She rather stayed at the temple and helped in the training of the younglings. She found a special kind of joy in helping the younger generations of Jedi get through their difficulties and achieve the skills they’ve meant to have by the will of the force. At the same time, she was still a Master, one of the Jedi High Council even. She could protect herself if needed.

But twelve younglings? Seven of them got hurt in the landing that was more of a crash than anything else. She did her best to patch them up with the resources at hand and sent out a distress signal. It was a disastrous thing to find out that some part of the ship’s communication center must’ve been damaged. The only way to send out the signal was to make it universal instead of the specific frequency their troops used.

And of course it wasn’t the Republic who’d found them first.

Darkness descended on the whole planet as a ship came out of hyperspace. Shaak Ti saw it land through the cockpit window. It was slender and pitch black. She didn’t recognize the model, but the wings were able to take up many shapes. When it landed, they were stretched into four parts, their length huge compared to the body of the ship. Then they folded into themselves like the wings of a bird and a door opened on the side, slowly raised high to allow the figure to exit.

He was alone. But by his presence in the force, he needed no one to watch his back.

Shaak Ti felt her hands tremble on the handle of her light saber. His titanic presence was almost indescribable. A tower of darkness. The sheer size of it warped the force around him, like a black hole, swallowing up everything. Matter. Light. Hope.

She only saw him for a few seconds before she had to retreat with the younglings into the most defendable part of the ship. He had a huge cape billowing behind him while he kept the apocalyptic storm raging around them at bay with only a single hand raised and curled into a fist.

She turned her attention to the younglings and tried to calm them down. All of them were terrified. Some of them wailing, other’s sitting stock still and trembling. There were a few who were clawing at invisible things at their skin, as if the darkness was a creature crawling all over them.

Then the knock came from the direction of the locked door. Three loud and distinctive sound.

“You must be the ones to send out the distress signal. From the looks of it, your ship is basically scrap metal for now.”

She stepped before the children and held her light saber at the ready, but didn’t ignite it yet. She didn’t answer either, only trying to come up with any meaning of escape. The wound on her side was aching something horrible, since she only bandaged it with the torn off part of her robe, leaving the medicine for the injured children. He didn’t seem to mind her silence and went on.

“You all got very far from home, Jedi. A Master and eleven… no, twelve younglings.”

She swallowed, yet refused to answer again. Horrible images ran through her mind. Who cares what’ll happen to her, what will he do to the _children?_ Will he take them away and twist them into assassins like that dark woman, Ventress? Or kill them on the spot? She didn’t know which would be the worse fate for them. If he took offence at her prolonged silence, neither his tone nor his force presence showed it.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Here, give me a second.”

After a few seconds, shields rose around his presence. Layer by layer, it felt like a planet was building itself slowly right before her eyes. The darkness crept back behind shields of adamantium until it all but stopped existing. The younglings around her took huge breaths of air, coming out from their terrified haze. She fussed over them, while still kept an eye on the door. Besides the initial injuries from the crash, all were fine mentally. His presence didn’t last long enough to cause permanent damage.

He waited on the other side of the door for minutes and it began to irk her. Now that she didn’t feel his presence, she was worried about what he might do on the other side of the door. As if he sensed her thoughts, and maybe he did, the dark sider spoke again.

“You have nothing to fear from me.”

_I don’t think so, Sith._

A barely audible, but clearly amused chuckle escaped through the sounds of the storm

“I am no traditional Sith, Master Jedi. Perhaps you’ve heard of me from your fellow Jedi. I am known as Darth Vader.”

Shaak Ti felt her eyes moisten at the mixed feelings that bubbled up in her chest. She tried to release them into the force as soon as possible, hoping to keep her level headedness in this situation. Yet her fear and relief warred with each other like two mighty beasts. Fear, because no Jedi has ever bested this particular Dark Sider. Relief, because he never killed a single Jedi, at least one that they know of.

“I sense that some of your younglings are still in pain. There are medical supplies on my ship. Do you wish to have them?”

Now a little less terrified, she licked her lips and decided to establish the two way communication.

“How can I know that you won’t cut me down and take the younglings as soon as I open the door?”

A loud sigh.

“You can’t know that for sure and I have a feeling my word wouldn’t mean much to you. But consider this. I made a reputation for myself to not hurt Jedi unprovoked and I intend to keep up the moderately good relations for as long as possible. Killing you and taking the younglings would make that severely harder.”

“But if you destroy the evidence? If you leave before others arrive?”

He huffed out a laugh, and Shaak Ti might’ve imagined it, but there was both annoyance and approval from his direction, but only for a moment.

“Then I suppose it _does_ come down to trust. Consider this. Every minute wasted is a risk for me of being found out, yet I didn’t tore this ship to pieces to get to you.”

 _And we both know I’d be capable._ Was implied but unsaid.

She bit her lip and cast a last look at the younglings, all scared and looking at her for solution. She frowned. In the end, there were worse people than Darth Vader to get stuck with. If he had an ounce of humanity in him, he won’t hurt the children at least. And she _needed_ more supplies, maybe even a lift off planet, depending how long it’ll take for the next responder to arrive.

“You’ll stay away from the younglings and put your weapon somewhere I can see it all times.”

“As you wish, _Master.”_ She didn’t miss the amused mockery.

He left to his own ship for the supplies and she followed him with her eyes through the cockpit window. Then it just occurred to her that he can send for his army from there. She almost cursed out loud. This impossible Sith made it equally impossible to think rationally around him. His whole existence was enough to thrown any Jedi into deep waters while he held all the cards.

Still better than Ventress or Grievous.

He returned with four boxes carried by the force, a fist still raised to hold back the storm around a bubble. When he knocked on the door again, she let out a last deep sigh and opened the door with the force, while gathering all the younglings behind herself and held out both arms to hide them as much as possible.

A young man entered the ship and closed the door behind himself, while slowly putting down the supplies. He was _really_ young, around the first part of his twenties. As soon as the hood was down, sun kissed skin showed itself along with a halo of curly, dirty blond locks and the most clear blue eyes Shaak Ti has ever seen. No sigh of the malicious Sith colors.

His robes were a strange mutation of the Jedi’s usual attire. Black loose pants, black leather gloves on both hands and dark brown boots, along with a skin tight black shirt and a knee-length open black robe, fastened to his side by a belt. He wore his cape so long it reached the floor.

She froze at the sight of his light saber in his hand, but he just held it out, palm upwards and open, with a simple gesture of surrender. She took it with the force and felt no resistance.

“Well. Face to face at last.” Darth Vader said and smiled, all teeth. It wasn’t a dishonest smile, but the man had an unshakable predatorily aura around him that twisted the gesture into something close to malicious.

“Indeed.” She forced out. Behind her, the younglings were silent, but tried to look past her.

“Well, here you go Master…” He said, pushing the boxes towards her with the force, while tilting his head, clearly waiting for a name.

“Shaak Ti.”

“Master Shaak Ti.” He repeated, then his face lit up in recognition. “From the High Council?” She felt her entire body stiffen. “My, what a small universe.”

He laughed at something and then causally walked over to the closest flat surface he can sit on, making sure to keep a distance, though it was clear he didn’t fear for his own safety. But he made the supplies much more approachable, now that he wasn’t so close to them. Trying to remain as cautious as possible, she took them with the force and then gave it to the children.

“Davin, make sure everything is in order.” She said, not daring to avert her eyes from the impossible Sith Lord, who seemed amused by the display.

“It should be, Master. They don’t look like they’ve been opened before.”

_But that didn’t mean they weren’t spiked before packing._

Darth Vader let out an amused snort and looked directly into her eyes. Now she was sure. He was reading her mind, despite her shields. How could he do that? She didn’t feel _anything_ from him, there was no way he can read in the mind of a Jedi Master without any sign. How did he do it?! Shaak Ti felt panic rise in her chest and she had trouble releasing any of it into the force.

He was too powerful. She was no match. Force, she needed to get the younglings away.

Vader threw up his hands in surrender.

“Relax! I can’t read your mind! It’s not a force trick.”

“Then how can you know what I’m thinking of?” Despite her inner turmoil, her voice was even, if stricter than usual.

“I don’t! Its educated guessing! Psychology, don’t worry. I’m not prying, I’m not doing anything. I won’t hurt you, especially not the _kids_ , I’m not a monster.”

“Then leave!” She snapped and then let some of her desperation take the wheel. “Please. If you really mean no harm, then leave us. You’ve helped and I’ll never forget about it, even make sure the rest of the Council knows it too, but leave us.”

He shook his head and let out a small sigh.

“Master Shaak Ti. I felt your injury and you have no idea about how dangerous this part of the galaxy is. Your distress signal is blood in the water and trust me, the sharks will come. We rather leave on my ship to safety, or we’ll wait here for help.”

She wanted to retort and ask if he was sure he wasn’t one of those sharks he mentioned, but decided against it. Her choice was clear anyway. There was no way she’ll let the younglings onto that ship. No matter how ‘peaceful’ he is, she would never risk it. So the only option was staying where they were.

“Then we’ll rather stay here.” She said carefully as she watched him nod slowly.

“I’ll remove myself if you wish. I’ll be at my ship and keep watch.”

“No!”

He cocked his head to the side.

“No?”

“If you won’t leave, then stay there. Stay put. I want to see what you’re doing.”

Raising his hands in surrender again, he walked into the furthest part of the room and to her absolute bafflement, sat down and started meditating. She waited about a minute or so, but he didn’t move or talk any more. Slowly, some part of the tension dissolved from her muscles and as silent as possible, she began to tend to the younglings. The medical supplies were enough for the wounds and the food would last for at least ten rotations.

So she ushered the kids as far as possible and urged them to rest and the older ones to meditate while she kept her eyes on the Sith Lord. She didn’t realize soon enough that the emotional exhaustion from this impossible situation was catching up to her and soon enough, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

She woke up with a sudden start. Her first glance went over the younglings, checking on them. All of them were fine and sleeping soundly. No. Not all of them. Davin was missing! Alarmed, she looked at Darth Vader standing beside the fresher, leaning back in a lazy pose and he was … _making a tower out of ration bars with the force_.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Master Shaak Ti.” He said with a wolfish grin, but not looking at her. “I was beginning to think you’ll never wake up. As amusing as walking younglings to the fresher and standing by to make them feel safe is, I think that’s not my job.”

“What… you… what? Where is Davin?”

As soon as she asked, the fresher door was opened next to the man and Davin appeared, shaking his still wet hands, giving the Sith Lord a nervous, but honest smile.

“Thank you, Master Vader.” Then his eyes found Shaak Ti and his face lit up with a smile. “Master Shaak Ti! You’re awake!”

“I… yes I am, Davin. Are you alright?”

The boy’s face became a little pink with a flush.

“I am. Master Vader was kind enough keep watch while I was in there. I apologize again for waking you, Master Vader.”

The Sith Lord made a lazy shushing motion, went back to his own corner and laid down with the grace of a large cat, arms behind his head, eyes closed. The ration bar tower shook and crumbled down, but before they could hit the ground, all of them were grabbed by the force and put back into their box. Shaak Ti watched the feat in awe. It’s not a small feat to hold at least six dozen things in the air without any visible effort.

“Don’t mention it kid. And I told you not to call me Master Vader.”

The youngling bit his lip.

“But ‘Lord Vader’ sounds like a Sith name.”

“Which I am.”

This time, Davin frowned, despite the man’s eyes being still closed.

“You don’t look like a Sith Lord.”

A blond eyebrow rose sarcastically at that.

“How many Sith Lord’s have you seen, Youngling Davin?”

The boy wasn’t ready to capitulate just yet.

“You don’t act like a Sith Lord either.”

This time, Vader opened his right eye and looked at the brave little Jedi.

“One day you’re going to learn that trying to recognize your enemy by only an expected pattern of behavior is one of the fastest way to get killed.”

Shaak Ti watched with mouth gaping as the boy considered the man’s words for a few seconds before nodding, putting his hand together before himself and bowed to him, as if Vader was a Knight or Master who gave him a tip outside their lessons. Vader closed his eye and made the best impression of a deeply asleep, harmless man Shaak Ti has ever seen.

It’s official. The world has gone insane.

***

It’s been four days since the initial projection of the distress signal, but so far only pirates picked up. Besides Vader of course, who handled these pirates in the most unorthodox way possible. The first pirate ship came on the second day. He made a quick work of them, not even asking for his light saber. He just went out and massacred them all with the force. Choking to death, decapitation via panels torn off from the pirate ship, stopping blaster bolts and sending them back to their owners with a flick of his wrist.

_“You sure you won’t take the ship and go home with this?”_

_“There’s a chance we might get in trouble. I won’t risk the younglings. I’d rather wait for help.”_

The only answer she got was a grin.

Despite her words, Shaak Ti was deeply shook and intimidated by the massacre and kept awake that night, watching the man intently, afraid that he’ll lash out any minute. It was clear he didn’t need any weapon to be deadly and suddenly she felt like she made a krayt dragon nest of their ship when she let him in.

Still, he didn’t risk going out into space. This fragile truce was tense, but not immediately dangerous. She was also afraid what would happen would she run into Separatists in space. She doubted any of them would treat the situation the same as Vader did. She shuddered at the thought of running into Count Dooku or General Grievous.

So she stayed and begged the force for a quick rescue.

She was terrified for the children. She didn’t allow them to witness the massacre, but they still felt it in the force. But none of them were afraid of Vader for long, despite him shedding his mask of innocence. Most of them were amazed by the man’s handling of the force, which true, it was _very_ impressive. She never saw _anyone_ , including Gradmaster Yoda raise so many heavy things at once. Some of them panels were pure durasteel, for the Force’s sake!

The second raid came at the third morning. Shaak Ti all but demanded Vader to be less bloodthirsty this time. And he was. Shaak Ti will never forget the crunching sound of twenty-six necks breaking at once. And the Sith looked like it took _no effort at all._

When the third pirate ship came on the same day, she gave him back his light saber and asked him to just get over it soon and in some way she won’t have to witness it. In return, he cloaked the whole makeshift battle field with his presence. No sound escaped. No life signature suddenly joining the force. They just slipped away as soon as they stepped out of their ship, like they’ve never existed at all.

It was on the third night she saw what he did with the bodies and the ships. He put them in two lines, bodies in one, ships in the other, while he put the three heads of the leaders on a huge flat rock and wrote a massage into it with his light saber.

“ _Do come. I’m making a collection.”_

At this point, she didn’t even address it. Meditating was hard but not impossible. Once the storm settled, they were free to leave the ship and the planet was beautiful. Green, with plains and forests. They decided to make camp outside.

The nature helped her stay calm. And ironically, so did Vader. She hated the fact that him being so close and so civil created a false image in the youngling’s mind about the Sith in general, but she _was_ injured and tired and it seemed like he was a natural with kids. Well, as natural as a Sith can get.

“Use your other leg. Stretch further!”

“You’re too fast!”

“And you’re too many! You don’t see me complaining!”

“I’m hungry!”

“You should’ve thought about it before you snuck off to the forest. You knew I’d confiscate your morning rations.”

“You are a terrible Master!”

“It’s good that I’m not one then.”

It was a _ridiculous_ sight. A mighty Sith Lord, teaching Jedi younglings how to fight. With proper forms. In any other situations, any Jedi would be horrified from the prospect of a dark sider teaching the children, but he was so… _different_. He didn’t even drop _hints_ for them to use their anger or other negative feelings. Sure, he didn’t tell them to _release_ it, but his teaching were… neutral.

Just a force user teaching other force users.

When the fourth night came and every youngling was sleeping in their makeshift tents, Shaak Ti used the opportunity to approach the man about something that troubled her sleep and meditation for two days now. He was sitting by the fire, laid down in a lazy manner as usual, eating. Yet another fact about Darth Vader. He had the appetite of a hungry krayt dragon.

“Can I do something for you, Master Shaak Ti?”

“Why are you here?”

“I wasn’t going to waste leftovers, but-“

“ _Why_ are you _here?_ Aren’t you Second in Command to the Separatists? How can you allow yourself a four day vacation to protect the children of your enemies?”

The man stayed silent for a while, his expression no longer playful. His eyes were locked in on the fire, yet despite the dance of the flames, they were clearly _blue._ Never once did she see him with the golden eyes of the Sith. Not even while he fought the pirates. When he spoke, she had the impression that she was addressed by the real person behind Vader’s mask. His true person.

“They are children and you are not my enemy. If you still think that, then I have no idea what to do to prove it to you.”

“But you _are_ our enemy, Lord Vader. You are one of the separatist leaders.”

Despite herself, she found her voice soft, even pleading. She knelt down beside him and realized this was the closest the two of them has ever been. From up close, she saw the tenseness of his jaw and the calculated way his fingers curled into fists and then loosened again. This was clearly not a comfortable topic for him.

“Just because I aide those idiots, I’m not one of them.”

He then looked at her, a small, mocking sneer adorning his features at her shocked expression.

“What? Baffled by my lack of patriotism? It’s true. I hate this war. I’ve never wanted to do anything with either side. Vicious liars, tearing each other’s throat out for just a scrap more power. The Separatist’s might be idiots, but they are not entirely _wrong_ , you have to see that. The Rot that is festering deep within the Senate.”

She swallowed and considered her next words. As far as she knew, not even Kenobi was able to have this conversation properly with the man, despite the two of them meeting almost every two weeks, sometimes even more frequent. Vader’s shields were too good, both force and mental ones. He didn’t let anyone under his skin, didn’t let anyone see the man underneath the myth.

“Is that why you joined? To right the… lost ways of the Senate.”

He scoffed, looking back at the fire. For a while, Shaak Ti felt like she just messed up and he considered the discussion closed, but then she heard the whisper.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Her eyes went wide. The next word left her as a whisper of the same force.

“What?”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had my own thing, I was doing great but then that _wretched creature_ dared to _take them from me_.” The campfire collapsed. From his fury or just gravity, she didn’t know. She felt herself rooted to the spot, eyes unable to move away from his face. For the first time, she saw a golden hue poison his blue eyes. “But I’ll get them back. And I’ll have my revenge.”

He turned back to her and the anger and the gold was all gone, replaced by an emotion she couldn’t identify.

“You asked why I’m here. How can I step away from the war to play with younglings? I tell you why. He might have the leash on me now, _but I decide the length.”_

None of them spoke to the other for the rest of the night. After the fire was nothing but embers, he turned onto his other side, not bothered by that fact that he is showing his back to her now, almost _vulnerable_ , but she just sat there, watching him. Her head was pounding but she didn’t feel like meditating just yet. This confusion brought her some strange sense of peace. Nothing made sense and at the same time, everything did.

Because Darth Vader was the slave of the separatist leader.

***

On the fifth day, the Jedi arrived. A young knight and his Padawan, barely three years older than her younglings came to check out the distress signal. They came really early, the sun was just beginning to reach over the horizon. All of the younglings were still sleeping. Even Shaak Ti was asleep when they arrived. She went to sleep secure in the knowledge of Vader being close and alert.

What a _crazy_ notion.

“Master Shaak Ti! We received the distress signal. Are you alright?”

She smiled up at the young Knight and stood up, dusting off her robes.

“I am fine, Knight Lucien and the younglings are fine too.”

Then she realized that she forgot someone…

A little panicked at how the two Jedi would react to the presence of the Sith Lord, she looked around, searching for his dark clothes that usually stuck out from the green of nature. She found no sign of him in the camp, even his ship was gone. But when she looked towards the forest, she was sure she saw his figure standing there for a moment, before he slipped into the shadows and disappeared for good.

“Master Shaak Ti?”

“Fine. We are all fine.” She smiled and projected her gratitude towards their rescuer. The two Jedi Knight smiled, thinking that it was aimed for them. And she smiled, because she knew he would recognize it was for him.

“Let’s go home.”

***

It’s safe to say that the news shook the Council. Obi-Wan himself felt a little light in the head at what Master Shaak Ti has suggested. He wasn’t really surprised by Vader helping them out and not harming children, nor was he surprised in any way that the man ruthlessly killed three ships worth of pirates. That fit perfectly into the oddity that was Darth Vader.

But a _slave?_ No. He cannot be. The image of a slave was incomparable to the man. He was always so chaotic, so _free_. How can someone be a slave and command armies? How can someone be a slave and walk free in the galaxy? How can someone be a slave and still let his Master’s mortal enemies loose every time, always making sure that they have a way out and off the ship.

But the scars…

Nausea hit him and he was sure the whole Council felt it, because every pair of eyes turned to him. Yet he couldn’t speak yet, the image of those angry red scars etched into his memory. _Those were whip marks. Whip and force lightning-_

“Force, why does this man have to be so complicated?” His voice was hoarse when he spoke.

Darth Vader might be a slave.

Kriffin Force.


	6. Just what in name of sanity- VADER YOU HAD ONE JOB

“Why is it that we can’t ever run into each other on the street?”

Despite his situation, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but groan. Vader was a blessing in a really, _really_ convincing disguise, like, you had to squint to see how he improves the situation, but just as no single solution can be applied to every problem, he was only an _occasionally_ welcomed chaos. And Mandalore was anything but occasional.

“Vader.”

“Kenobi” The Sith was grinning from ear to ear as he slid forward from the shadows, his huge cape billowing out behind him. “Nice to see you hanging around.”

Yet again, Obi-Wan groaned. He already asked Satine for help (which was good, since Vader cannot be trusted to not make the situation worse before it gets better) but now he dreaded the two of them meeting. The embodiment of pacifism and the embodiment of chaos in a conversation would be like an unstoppable object meeting an unbreakable wall.

“So the Separatists _are_ behind that mandalorian assassin.”

“Don’t bore me, you knew that before you stepped foot on the planet. I’m actually curious how you got yourself into this situation. I mean. Bested by two force-blind soldiers?” He shook his head in a condescending manner while the grin still refused to disappear from his face. “You even left your speeder at the entrance. Really, Kenobi. I expected better. What happened to you?”

Before he could answer, the two Death Watch soldiers came back and noticed the Sith in the dark.

“Lord Vader.” They stuttered, scrambling to salute. Even from his prison, Obi-Wan could feel the fear rolling down from them in waves. “We were unaware that you’d honor us with your presence.”

“And it shall remain that way.” The Sith Lord said and with a flick of his finger, he let out a force suggestion so strong, it almost managed to affect him as well. “ _You haven’t seen me here. No one is conversing with General Kenobi. Go and be good little soldiers, stand in the corner until I’m finished.”_

“As you wish, My Lord.” Came their monotone reply, before they saluted and left.

Despite himself, Obi-Wan felt a shudder run down on his spine. It was mind-bogglingly easy to forget the measure of threat this particular Sith Lord can possess, since he was content playing around in the majority of his time. Moments like this, when he showed just how little effort it takes for him to do things that required concentration from Jedi Masters were incredibly far in-between, thus more shocking when they occurred.

Vader stalked closer to him, which wasn’t any less threatening from upside down and he actually crouched down so their eyes can be level. He was so close Obi-Wan was sure for a moment that one of his golden locks touched the energy field that kept him at bay.

“What should I do with you, old friend?”

“You can always let me go.”

He tried to hide his nervousness. It was impossible not to see the other as anything but a threat. He watched as the dark lord let his tongue taste the corner of his lips, eyes locked on his. Obi-Wan felt like prey and the predator was _right there_. Now that he thought about it, never before was he so vulnerable in the other’s presence. So defenseless. This was clearly a new situation for both of them.

“No, I don’t think I will.” The dark sider purred and leaned even closer, his smile showing teeth. “I’m going to leave that honor to your duchess. The pretty little thing must be worried sick by now.”

Icy cold rushed into Obi-Wan’s veins. Force. Force, he messed up. He called Satine to the krayt dragon’s den! He should’ve known. Vader knew him _too well,_ knew he’s going to look around. The timings were too perfect for anything else. That Death Watch insignia wasn’t a signature. It was an invitation. A bait. And he fell for it like a fool.

“Vader, don’t hurt her!”

His face fell at the Sith Lord’s smooth chuckle. The dark sider straightened himself and adjusted his robes under the cloak, then began to fidget with his gloves.

“Tyrannus wants her dead, Kenobi. I cannot fail him one more time.”

“No!”

He activated the comm, trying to reach her, to _warn her_ , but Vader crushed the device with a single glance. Anger and desperation warring inside, he tugged at the energy field once more, trashing in his bindings, to no avail. This was on him. Satine’s going to die in a dark, wretched cave like this because of him. Part of him knew that Vader was the kind of Hound that can hunt down _anyone_ , _anywhere_ , yet-

Yet…

No, something was up. Vader could’ve killed her literally any time. Why trap them both here? He _knew_ the Sith Lord, he wasn’t cruel. He would never…

He would never place that kind of guilt on Obi-Wan’s soul. He just knew.

“What do you want?” He asked, voice hoarse from his fluctuating emotions.

The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed in approval and he crouched down one more time, holding his gaze.

“What could you possibly give me, Jedi? It seems to me that it’s always you who are in need of favors and I’m the one who takes the whip for you messing up. This should be as good of a lesson as any.”

Obi-Wan tried not to swallow, ignored the headache that was forming from being upside down and the blood rushing into his head, desperately clinging to the other man’s gaze. The sky blue eyes that looked back at him kept their color despite the orange hue that covered both of them. There was something in them. An emotion. A message. Something both bitter and sweet at the same t-

Pity. It was pity.

“But you’re not a monster.” He echoed the man’s own words, still not sure how deep in the woods he actually was.

“No, I’m not.” He raised his head in a sudden motion, alerted to something. Before Obi-Wan could stretch out his senses, he spoke. “You duchess is here.” And stood up.

“Vader, wait! Wait! Spare her, please!”

“I cannot spare her.” Before the desperation could ease itself back into his soul, the Sith’s gaze captured his own. “But I can be defeated.”

Though his brain was still shocked from the fluctuating hope and desperation and all alone confusion, he’s been part of enough Vader shenanigans for his mind to immediately switch into emergency collaboration mode.

“No one’s going to believe that. Nobody’s has beaten you before.”

A smirk tugged at the Sith’s mouth.

“Flatterer. But no, nobody from the Light Side has defeated me before.”

“I… _what?_ You cannot _possibly mean for me to-_ “

“I’m going to injure the duchess, no mortal or permanent disability. She’s going to lose consciousness for a while” He wiggled his fingers. “Via a dark side move by me. Then she doesn’t have to see as you get ‘enraged’ by her ‘death’, tap into the dark and cut off my right hand from the wrist.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but stare. What? _WHAT?!_

“Then, the next time we meet I’m going to cut off yours to take retribution and then we’ll be back to not-really-buddies-but close enough.”

“You’re _Insane!”_

 _“_ Do you wish for the lady to live or not? You can get rid of the dark side after a few months of meditation and I don’t think giving a hand for the love of your life is too big of a deal.”

“She is _not-“_

 _“_ Deal?”

“Vader, you can’t just-“

“ _Deal?”_

Obi-Wan sighed. He felt Satine at the mouth of the mines. Besides, Vader was right. He’s tapped into the Dark Side before when he defeated Darth Maul and the Masters helped him meditate on the feeling and let it fade away. It’s a _long_ and _frustrating_ process, but it’s more than worth of Satine’s life. Not to mention the hand, but that was something he would agree to in a blink.

 _Vader_ would lose much more with this deal and both of them knew it. His undefeated status was something the Republic watched with dread. If Obi-Wan ‘defeats’ him enough to cut off a hand, that will be an _enormous_ win for the Republic. And really, it’s just a hand.

“Alright. Alright, deal.”

“Good. I’m waiting for you at the top of the right side elevator.” Was the last thing he said before compelling the two Death Watch members, without words this time, and then sunk into the shadow.

Obi-Wan didn’t even pay attention to them. Good riddance, this is going to be a mess.

***

“Please, refrain from moving the limb while I’m working.”

“Please, refrain from getting on my nerves while I’m in _agony.”_ He hissed and then the adrenaline messed with his head again. “Hah! Nerves! Get it? Cause it’s working on my-“

“I get it, darling.”

Bzzt.

Vader groaned at yet another sharp sting of pain travelled up on his arm. Why did he suggest this again? Oh right. He was an idiot. An idiot who can’t stop being extra. He even remembered a saying back in the barracks when he was given command for the first time and his team’s missions resulted both in _success_ and unwanted _chaos_.

‘There’s three ways to do something. The good way, the bad way and the Skywalker way, which is the bad way, only much faster.’

Bzzt.

“Kriffin _ow-“_

“Hush now, it’s almost done.”

He would tell Ventress where to shove up her smug behavior, if he weren’t in such pain and her hands wouldn’t be the only thing that kept it bearable without anesthetics or an induced coma. Her skillful fingers kept hitting energy spots and nerves (Hah!) on his back and shoulder that numbed the pain as soon as the nerve (Ha-hah!) signals on the console flared up.

“I’m going to _strangle_ Kenobi.”

“Strangle, no. Cut off his hand, yes.”

“I _should_.”

“You _should_ , yes, but you won’t, because you are completely crazy.” He let out warning growl when her singers sunk into his hair from behind and started massaging his scalp. “Though that might change once you’re off the barbeque for losing your winning streak.”

The biting retort died off from his tongue as her fingers worked miracle on his head. He almost forgot about the droid installing the new hand if not for the-

Bzzt.

“Oh, for the love of-“

Yet again, she punched a few spots on his back and the harsh feeling dissipated. The constant in and out of the intense pain left him sweaty and with a lingering dizziness in his head. As soon as the droid was done and closed the last panel of his new hand, his shoulders sagged with relief. He leaned back a little, trying it out as per the instructions of the medical droid. It worked without an issue.

Then two hands sneaked themselves up from under his arms and a very feminine chest pressed itself to his back. He let out yet another warning growl, but is sounded more of a relieved groan than anything else. The slender fingers swept over and under his open tunic, but he grasped the right one’s wrist before it can get further.

“I’m not sleeping with you again.”

“You’re lying to yourself, Vader.” She hissed into his ear.

“No. We almost ripped each other to pieces.”

She chuckled, the sound resonating in her chest, through her breasts and right into his back. Force, he made a _big_ mistake. He knew he should’ve stopped her the second she began that disturbing courting. Who the kriff leaves bloody limbs before a person’s door they try to woo? Was she a disturbing cat or something? Based on the sounds she was emitting, she might just be.

“What? Regret it? We both know you enjoyed too. All those issues coming to the surface.”

“You yourself aren’t the model piece of healthy psyche, fuck you very much.”

“I’m planning on doing that.”

He pushed her hands away and the darkness in his mind rumbled in displeasure. There wasn’t anything that fueled the Dark Side more than two _dark force users_ having mind blowing sex. That was yet another reason to avoid the intercourse. It took him thirty hours of meditation to drag himself out from the pit.

And then the fact that he _should_ spy on Kenobi and his duchess for information, less Tyrannus will be even more displeased. (If that’s even possible. And he still haven’t spoken to Sidious yet- He might cut off _both_ of Kenobi’s hands. Or introduce him to Sith lightning ala Vader.) But back to the spying thing, he really needs to do that and there’s no kriffin _way_ he’s going to do that from _bed_. He was creeped out enough already.

“No.” He stood up from the bed and looked around for his other robes. “If you’re so desperate, go and pick up some poor sod from the officers.”

She snorted and laid back onto the bed.

“You must be joking, my dear. Half of them would faint the second I made a clear advance on them.”

“Not my problem.” Where the kriff was his glove?

“And the other part would be happy that they survived.”

“Again, not my problem.” Ah, there it was!

Now what did he do with his cloak?

A hand grabbed his (healthy) arm and pulled him back. He reacted immediately, shifting on instinct and pulled into a stance which can free his arm and give him the advantage he needed against an attack coming from the back. However, Ventress knew him too well and she was shifting as well. In the spam of a heartbeat they were wrestling with each other. The damned witch played dirty and aimed for his injured hand. About half a minute later, they were back on the bed, him with his uninjured hand on her neck.

“I said, no.” He hissed, voice low.

“And I told you, you’re a liar.” She grinned at him.

_Damn right, you are._

He managed to throw himself off of her before she could grab him, but that gave her the advantage and this time he was the one with the hands around his throat. Or hand. He _really_ didn’t want to think about where the other was wandering.

“You cannot go out like this. You’re radiating the dark.” She whispered. “Those ‘poor sods’ might get a heart attack just by being near you.”

“And you’re so worried about those ‘poor sods’.”

“You know me, dear. Compassionate to my core.”

He let out a hiss. She grinned.

Compassionate _his ass._

***

Sometimes Vader contemplated his life choices.

_You do?_

(Shut up. Of course I do.)

Like, for example, what did he do wrong to get into this situation? Sprawled out on the bed, hissing every time he moved because his back hurt like a bitch (he’s going to cut her nails with a _light saber_ for this). His neck looked like he lost a wrestling match with a flying engine and he was sure one of his ribs was broken. Sex with Ventress was not something that gives you a pleasant afterglow. You rather take a few deep breaths and consider yourself happy that you still have all of your limbs.

Though this might stem from the fact that both of them were tolerating each other at best outside the bedroom and they decided to get the frustration out from their system like this. It’s not like the pain wasn’t mutual, he was sure the lines on her neck will be there for _days_ , but mutual doesn’t make it _healthy._

And the worst part? Since Tyrannus was _not_ happy about his _spectacular_ failure to kill the duchess _and_ the fact that he managed to get his first loss under his belt, he demanded information, which translated to… creeping on Kenobi and his girlfriend, who were having a political debate at this moment.

And he needed to listen in.

From the bed.

In which he had deadly sex in.

…

(…)

_Nope! Too weird! Even for you!_

(Agreed. Let’s just find my clothes and get out of here.)

He barely managed to shift an inch towards the edge when the arms around his waist tightened their hold.

“If you dare to leave now, it’s going to hurt.”

It won’t. They both knew that. Vader was stronger than her, even injured. Only their light saber knowledge was kind of on par with each other. But Ventress was a _damn_ _cuddler_ , (Which was an information he cannot reveal to anyone under the threat of bodily harm, but he snickered into his hand about it anyway.) and she became a pain in the ass if she didn’t get her afterglow cuddles. She’ll be snarky and _annoying_ for _weeks_.

“Tyrannus wants me to creep on Kenobi and his girlfriend.”

“Then do it.” She mumbled into his back, not bothered by the slightest.

He grimaced.

“You really just suggested for me to listen on to those two love birds _from bed?_ ” When she snorted, he groaned again. “ _How_ am I the crazy one again?”

“We fucked.”

“Yeah. Point.”

Creepy stalking it is. Yet another thing Kenobi must _never_ know.

***

When did spying on the enemy become a holo drama?

Now Vader was _so happy_ he let Satine live. That woman was the first since Ventress who could not only hold her own in an argument with the silver-tongued Negotiator, but even slap him around for a bit. And he was _sure_ Tano was enjoying this _so much_! A high-five would be sure, would he be present.

_“I don’t remember you as one to hide behind excuses.”_

_“I don’t remember you as one to shrink before responsibilities.”_

“Just fuck already!” Screamed Ventress, throwing popcorn at the holo.

“Psst!”

He was… uh, what was the word? Melinoe threw it around like confetti. Uh… Shipping it! Yes, he was shipping them to a painful degree. Two people with mutual affection for each other, baffled by the other’s unwillingness to understand their point of view, rather sticking to their own ‘delusion’. The sexual-tension must be sky high in that room. He pitied the ‘poor sods’ in the crossfire.

“ _The sarcasm of a soldier!”_

_“The delusion of a dreamer!”_

He threw back his head and laughed at the two. Damn, he knew Jedi and politicians were amusing when they wanted to be, but this is like a holo drama! He kind of pitied them though. Both of them so consumed by their work and the expectations laid out before them that they had no time to loosen up and just enjoy being alive.

“These two are kriffing stupid!”

He snorted into the last sip of his drink. “You can say that again.”

Then immediately jumped, when her hand wandered up his thigh.

“Ventress! Our ETA is in ten minutes!”

“I’m sure we can manage.”

“Ventress!”

***

Vader was the last obstacle. He always was. He liked to organize everything like he was the big bad of some force-awful holo game. He had the dramatics for that, that’s for sure. And the intimidation. Especially when he was pissed. Obi-Wan was sure at least some degree that this was all the play, though no one can predict what the pain of a severed limb can bring forth in the not so sane man’s mind.

“Ahsoka, take the duchess back to the palace!”

“No!” both woman hissed at the same time.

“Are you insane? He’s going to kill you!” Satine scolded, clutching his arm.

“He’s not going to kill me.”

Vader either managed to listen in with the Force, or he just had an unfailing sense for dramatics, because as soon as that sentence left his mouth, they could hear him yell from the other hallway.

“When I get my hands on you, Kenobi, I’m going to _disassemble your molecules!”_

“It sure sounds like he’s going to spare you.”

“Come on, Aksoka. This is Vader. He’s never killed a Jedi before.”

“No Jedi took his hand before.”

Both him and Satine winced at that. She felt guilty for possibly ruining the Sith’s peculiar truce with the Jedi Order and he felt guilty for not telling her the full story. But this needed to remain as believable as possible. Not to mention he won’t have her agonizing over the fact that he gave up a hand in order to save her life. The look Ahsoka sent him told everything. She was suspecting this was one of their ‘emergency collaborations’, yet both of them were nervous. Just how much will Vader hold himself to the deal now that he was maimed, disgraced and punished for someone he’s never met before? Will his modicum of sanity hold out?

“Just go!” He insisted, feeling Vader stand still for a moment, no doubt finally sensing their presence and now storming their way. “I’m going to settle this.”

“Master, you can’t know th-“

“Peek a boo~”

Before any of them could move, Ahsoka and he felt the force tighten around their throat and their feet lifted from them ground until they were slammed into the closest wall. Obi-Wan stole a glance at Vader, who didn’t look much worse to wear, though his appearance was slowly deteriorating through the war. He has grown paler, though he managed to maintain his built. His usually haunted eyes contained a pinch of more crazy this time.

“Your highness! Face to face at last!” The blond said, mocking her with a deep bow, one hand still holding them up, the other igniting his light saber. So he managed to replace it in such short time. Impressive. “The last time we met we didn’t have a chance to properly introduce each other. I am Darth Vader, at your service.”

“I know who you are, _my lord._ ” She all but spat the title, holding the blaster towards him.

Vader laughed into her face.

“Go on, your highness. Shoot me!” He was close to Satine, a single step backwards allowed him to place his forehead against the weapon. Yellow eyes looked into Satine’s blue. “Spare your devoted general the trouble.”

“You mock me, Lord Vader, but I need not to kill to defeat you, as General Kenobi illustrated before.”

Ahsoka abandoned clutching her neck just so she can facepalm and Obi-Wan felt the urge to join her. Satine, of course, couldn’t know that she was shredding the last parts of the man’s patience, that would Vader not stick to the plan, they’d all be dead by now three times over. He saw something dangerous flash in the dark sider’s eyes, before he slowly straightened up and let them fall from their pinned positions.

“You have my gratitude for mentioning it. Kenobi! Arm yourself!”

“Master, don’t-“

“It’s alright, Padawan.” _He’s sticking to the deal, don’t worry._

 _Tainting you with the dark side wasn’t enough?!_ She all but screamed back through the bond.

_That was for accepting excessive punishment for leaving the duchess alive._

“General, please! Don’t give him what he wants!”

“Enough chatter!” Vader’s annoyance exploded several decorations and windows. “I’m attacking you either way, Kenobi. Last chance to draw your blade.”

So they fought.

***

Defeating Kenobi isn’t easy. It never was. He was one of the finest duelists he has ever seen and he knew for a fact that no Jedi nor Sith will be able to match the man once he reaches the peak of his skills. Luckily for him, he was no Jedi, nor Sith. Illusion and theatrics were as much his weapons as his saber. Usually, he barely used the force while he dueled the Jedi, giving them a chance to flee before it was over. With Kenobi, he didn’t need to hold back. That much.

“Are you dancing, or are you dueling, Lord Vader?”

“Why? Am I not a sight for sore eyes either way?”

“You certainly give the impressions of a drama-“

“A-a-a!” He said, twirling his light saber, while holding a finger before his mouth. “Dirty talk is for the bedroom.”

He was aware of the clones slowly surrounding him and their General. About a hundred of them were allowed on Mandalore in order to not break the planet’s neutrality. A hundred war forged veterans, waiting out the result of their little dance. Not to mention the civilian eyes that followed their every steps. He sensed their fear, along with the hesitation of the clones and the Padawan, the latter knowing very well how he drew out the fight for a show.

Kenobi took his hand. Now he’s going to take his in public. So small of a price for the heart of his woman. Or the woman of his heart?

Then came the chance and he took it. He almost found it a little bit sickening how the saber went through flesh like hot knife on butter. Everything about it was nauseating. The sound, the smell, the movement. He felt the General’s agony through their small emergency bond.

“A hand for a hand.” He said, loud enough to be audible through the panicked gasps and shouts. “Fitting.” He looked down on the General, who tried to call his saber to his other hand, not giving up on the fight. Instead, he called the weapon to himself with a simple thought. “You are down, Kenobi. Do you admit your defeat?”

The General looked up into his eyes, force presence and gaze both radiating pain and fury.

“Never!”

He smirked. “Good.” And threw the weapon before him, turned on his heel and began to walk away.

A hundred blasters and two light sabers were raised towards him. It seems that little army will not stand idly by anymore now that their general was defeated. The two leaders fought out their honor, now it was time for the war to poison the occasion.

“Darth Vader, you are surrounded and under arrest!” Tano’s voice was shimmering with fury. “Don’t resist!”

He ignited his light saber, calling the force into his other hand, letting the dark side creep into their bones and flesh, make them shudder and panic and doubt, make them afraid of the specter of death he could be, should they push this issue further.

“All I am surrounded by is fear and dead men.”

“Let him go!” Kenobi urged his troops behind him. “He is at advantage, don’t provoke him!”

Vader really, _really_ liked the man.

He walked away without a single person stopping him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Force, this was SO NOT how I intended all of this to go down XD  
> First things first... Vader and Ventress... yeah, that happened. DON'T ASK ME WHY. Vader is crazy, Ventress is a secudtress and they have free time, I guess? XD (should I tag this???)  
> Also, Vader managed to leave the worst possible impression on Satine. Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. As if we need more drama.  
> I also don't know how SW physics works, if they can watch and listen in to others in hyperspace or not, but yeah, now they can, because this is a crack fic and I need more domestic fluff in my life.  
> And the hand thing... eh...  
> My apologies.


	7. There was a slaver empire...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line of consent is a little blurred here, so if anyone is uncomfortable by it, I apologize.

Obi-Wan groaned in annoyance. The plan has already crumbled into a catastrophe on the first step. How did they manage to get themselves into a slave auction, he’ll never know. And this wasn’t even the usual dirt on everything, people screaming over each other and constant threat of death hanging above your head auction. No.

If he was allowed to say, the whole thing was… ugh… sophisticated. The place looked like the auction was organized in an opera house, shades of red and black dominating the scene. The people were all lavishly dressed and worn decorated masks. The boxes were guarded by barely noticeable energy fields and guards stood everywhere to protect the buyers.

He hated himself so much when Ahsoka was dragged forward in her bindings. The dress they forced on her barely concealed anything and she fought her bindings with valor, growling and lashing out at the plain masked figures that held her chains.

“A female Togruta. Young and strong! The starting price is ten thousand credit!”

The bidding started to race upwards and Obi-Wan cursed each and every one of them. Years and years he tried to warp his head around the fact how could the Republic allow slavery to exist and came up with no answer other than it was easy. It was the lazy solution. Just look in the other direction rather than put work into the wellbeing of millions.

“One hundred thousand credit from Her Grace!” The auctioneer screamed and Obi-Wan looked up in surprise. It was Miraj Scintel. The one whose empire they needed to infiltrate before everything went sideways.

The Force _does_ have ways to make its will turn reality.

“Oh! I see hundred and ten from the gentleman in the seventh box!”

No.

“One hundred and twenty from her grace!”

He didn’t even have time to relax, when.

“One hundred and thirty from the gentleman! It’s a real fight, ladies and gentlemen!”

Who was this guy? Who goes up against the Zygerrian Queen when she wanted something?

“One hundred and fifty from Her Grace! One hundred and fifty first! One hundred and fifty sec-…Two hundred thousand!”

The auctioneer screamed as Ahsoka was sold, Queen Miraj giving up on her with a scowl. Obi-Wan felt his knees go weak from the realization that his Padawan was sold to an unknown human male. He needed to get out of his bonds and help her. They needed to regroup before their new ‘masters’ take them away. Force knows what might happen to them till the Council can find them and arrange their freedom. IF them can find them, that is. This place didn’t seem retraceable at all.

He was the next one pulled to the podium. He heard the words but nothing really registered, being busy trying to wreck his brain to come up with a solution. Some part of him heard the Queen getting angry at one point and demanding to know who dares to challenge her so, but other than that, the only thing that shook him out of his daze was the auctioneer screaming.

“Sold! For three hundred thousand, the same gentleman in box seven!”

Obi-Wan was pulled away before he could say more. He was lead down on the corridor and around the backstage, no doubt taken to his new… owner. Bile rose to his throat, but he kept his cool, trying to push down some fleeting memories. The walk was short and it felt even shorter, one second still in the back, the other he was pushed through a door.

A great deal of weight fell from his soul, seeing Ahsoka there and what’s more important, out of the majority of her chains. His were taken too with the exception of those that held his hands together, cutting him off from the Force. He looked over her to check for injuries, but before he could feel relieved, her sour expression startled him. It took him too long to realize that he shouldn’t show worry towards her, less their temporal owner would abuse that against them, but before he could take a step back and take a look at the man, a commanding voice rolled over the box.

“Just like I told you, Kenobi. The three of us meeting under normal circumstances is physically impossible.”

And the chair turned around to reveal a human male in his early twenties. Robes dark, navy blue and black, rich beyond measure, long and ethereal almost pooling at his feet, open wide on his chest, showing scars. His right hand, which was cowered by an elegant black glove held up a sun kissed chin. Pearly white teeth showed themselves from between smirking lips. His golden halo of curls looked even more luxurious than ever. All in all, he made a perfect image of a rich and self-important politician. Or a lord would be more accurate.

Darth Vader.

***

When Sidious gave him this mission, Vader almost tore him into pieces. He was one breath away from lunging at the man perching on his chair, Jedi and aliases notwithstanding. It still baffled him how _disturbingly_ obvious Sidious could be, yanking his chain until he had to step on Coruscant itself to receive new orders, directly in the Chancellor’s office. The bastard sure liked to play his games and never shied away from flaunting his prizes in front of everyone without alerting them to what they were seeing.

He knew this was just another punishment for him holding his back for the Jedi and Vader hated to admit that it was starting to work. Every time he let one of them go, the dark side screamed at him more and more to just go after them and dice them up, to not suffer for those he barely knows, to not risk his team for people who’d lock him up for good and throw away the key.

But he still held out. Ironically Sidious himself was the one whose true colors kept Vader on the… uh… lighter side of the grey. He knew that without the Jedi, even when this war is over, Sidious won’t hand his people back to him. It was selfish, in some strange way, but it kept more and more people from dying, so he had to count his blessings and move on.

Force knows only how Kenobi and Tano managed to get into this much bantha shit _now_ of any times, but the second he saw her on the podium and felt the _want_ from Miraj’s box, a plan manifested in his head. So he outbid her. Again and again. Wasting Sidious’ money was nothing if not fun, so he didn’t hold back. For two hundred thousand, Tano ‘was his’.

_Try not to think about how dirty this makes you feel._

(Too late!)

On his right arm, Ventress sent him a peculiar gaze from her laid back position. He avoided looking anywhere near her chest for now, because her dress was _revealing_ and Vader was a _sinner_ who was _weak._ Ignoring the purr like sound that came from her was much harder.

“Why do I sense a plan in your pretty head?”

“I’m a predictable kind of man.”

She chuckled, deeply, letting the sound roll around.

“You are anything but.”

While Tano was on their way to them, Vader began to race to the edge with the Queen for Kenobi. Oh, she fought for this one. He could kind of see why. Just because he wouldn’t order what’s on the menu, it didn’t mean that he has no _eyes_. Ventress let out an appreciating purr, her eyes drinking up the almost naked form of their nemesis and Vader was _so happy_ he didn’t read her thoughts. Whatever those two do with each other, he’ll support them as long as he doesn’t have to watch.

He made another bid for two hundred and twenty and oh, kitty cat was _angry~_

“Who dares to challenge me?” She stood up, voice thundering through the open space.

He made a show of standing up and bowing to her with an overly flamboyant gesture. The Force sang of the desire that rolled over from her small presence in the Force. He could _physically feel_ her eyes roaming over his chest, his shoulders, his neck and the visible parts of his face.

There we go, now he has her attention. Shame she was a filthy slaver and Vader wouldn’t touch her on his own volition with someone else’s dick, let alone his own. Minding his body language as per his training, he was a show of sitting back and stretching out on his seat like a lazy cat, one feet on his other knee, the same side elbow on the armrest of the chain and face resting on his fingers. He must’ve looked like a seven course meal by the flash of the woman’s aura and even Ventress let out a purr from the other side.

The Queen, not to be outdone, raised the bid once more, this time to two hundred and fifty.

Vader grinned and offered three hundred thousand.

(I’ll take all the cards and you’ll have them when I want you to.)

The door was opened behind him and he could feel Tano’s oppressed presence enter, though he didn’t turn around just yet, making sure that he got Kenobi as well. The two Jedi in his pocked would give him _significant_ advantage in his mission as long as he can keep them under his thumb. Even a few days of their work could speed up the process.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The small Jediling groaned, recognizing Ventress even in her dress and mask, thus immediately recognizing him as well before he sent her an amused glance over his shoulder.

“Good to see you too, Snips. Your Master will join us shortly. Then you can tell us the no doubt _hilarious_ tale of you two getting sold as slaves.”

“I knew you were a pervert, but really Vader? Pleasure slaves?”

“I need no attention from slaves, Tano, I get enough for free.”

When Miraj made another bid, she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, daring to defy her this time. Instead of rising to the bait, he made a show on inclining his head while gesturing towards the young man on stage. He made sure to etch every face here into his memory. The second his team was free, they’re going to do some spring cleaning in the galaxy.

_So many heads, so little time._

Kenobi was brought to them shortly after that. He let them man fuss over his Padawan a little before making his presence known. Oh, his face was _worth it._ Just like Tano, Kenobi recognized the two of them without missing a beat. This was the first time since they’ve met face to face after the hand incident, so it wasn’t surprising to see the man hesitate about his approach.

“Sith got your tongue?” Ventress inquired from his side, not hiding the fact how she was eyeing the Jedi Master like a piece of meat.

“Lord Vader, Ventress. It’s… surprising to see you here.”

He could see the accusation in his eyes from a miles away.

“Oh, don’t overthink it, darling.” The Dathomirian witch made a dismissing gesture. “We aren’t here for fun. Lord Tyrannus had plans for the Zygerrian Empire.”

Kenobi’s shoulders sagged some and he let out a relieved huff.

“So that’s why you’re playing back and forth with the Queen.”

“And she’s already eyeing him like she can’t decide between fucking him senseless or ripping him to pieces.” Her smug ass had no business sounding _this_ amused. Sidious practically sold him out like a _whore_ , but of course she found this _funny_!

“Can I pick?” The lack of enthusiasm was palpable in his voice. “Because I’d rather choose the sweet release of death.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Now Ventress’ voice had that sultry undertone again and _kriff everything_ , he’s conditioned like a lapdog, if only her voice could fan his flames so much even the two Jedi noticed and went stock still. Kenobi kept looking from one of them to the other, while believing that if he squinted hard enough, they’d confess all their dirty secrets, while Tano went a few shades paler.

“Are you two… are you two a thing?”

He snorted, as if laughing at the idea.

“Of course not, Tano.”

The Padawan relaxed instantly.

“We are two people who sometimes fuck. Nothing more.”

Messing with the little Jedi was fun. She made over exaggerated gagging noises to his absolute amusement, while her Master tried to chastise her and diffuse the mood. Speaking of said Master, it seems Vader isn’t the only one who had trouble keeping his eyes off of Ventress’ ‘lady parts’…

_… so, who gets a score for that?_

(Either I win for banging the admittedly hot witch or he loses for falling for her devious charms)

Does this count as double score then? It totally does.

“Personal things aside, my I ask why are you here?”

“You may.”

He kept looking into the man’s eyes, daring him to start interrogating. He was already getting annoyed by Kenobi’s skittish behavior, like he was expecting Vader to go ‘Well, actually, I just decided that I want your other hand as well’. It was clear from his emotions in the Force that he meditated both the dark side and the resentment away. His captors used Force binding cuffs to restrain him, so he couldn’t pry into Vader’s presence and seek clarification to his doubts.

Speaking of…

With a wave of his hands, he de-cuffed them, prompting both Jedi to begin rubbing their wrists. Beside him Ventress’ presence rumbled with amusement, though she was mostly paying attention to the auction now, making bids in his place. Kenobi shot both of them one last look of uncertainty and _that was it_.

“Kenobi, stop looking at me like I might rip your throat out in any minute. It’s over, it’s done, I’m not angry with you. I was the one who offered, stop overthinking it.”

“My apologies for annoying you.” How he managed to go from skittish to smug in less than a heartbeat, he’ll never know.

Vader’s eyebrow twitched. This guy…

“Yeah, right, whatever. Listen, I’m here to fuck a queen and bend a slaver empire to my will, though I could live my life to the full extent without the former and I’m eager to get started with the latter, so _please_ tell me why you’re here so we won’t get into each other’s way.”

The two Jedi shared a glance, not even hiding the fact that they were conversing through the Force. Vader let them fight out the idea of collaboration between themselves and turned back towards the auction. They started to sell the Togrutas that Tyrannus sent here from Kiros. Vader felt his hands clech at the thought.

_You are serving slavers. You simply cannot sink lower._

(I don’t know about that. I can always dig a hole for myself.)

_Maybe a nice, shallow grave that you can make use of after this is done._

(Rest assured that I’m going to make Sidious eat all of his fingers for this and that’s just warming up.)

_Big words for a dog on a leash._

He felt the Queen eyeing him once again from the Royal Box and resisted the urge to turn and sneer at her. But he had a job to do. Sidious wanted Zygerria one way or another. Tyrannus was sent out to cultivate his little coup d’état with his lap cat, Darts D’nar in case Vader didn’t manage to bend the Queen to his will.

But that worst thing about this whole ordeal was that Sidious made no secret of his plans. Zygerria will be taken by force from the inside. The old bastard all but said it to his face that the only reason he’ll have to endure the Queen and slavery was so the coup could be _slightly_ smoother. This was his ongoing punishment for losing _once_ to Kenobi.

_“Look closely at those slaves, Lord Vader. You might learn something useful about pleasing your master from them.”_

Oh, how he wanted to scream and lash out and tear the old corpse to pieces! He still felt the rumbling fury just beneath the first layer of his shields, threatening to bubble to the surface as soon as some idiot forgets to mind their tongue in his presence. He wasn’t a _whore_ to be _rented out_ -

“Lord Vader. My Padawan and I wish to ask a few questions before we decide what to do.”

Kenobi’s voice almost bounced off of the anger surrounding his thoughts. Trying to reign in the destructive impulses that were no doubt easy to witness in his force presence, he turned away from the slaves, though he did not look back at the two Jedi.

“Proceed.” His voice was hoarse, but he refused to clear his throat. He almost winced. Scrambling for the last remnants of his self-control let him slip back to old habits.

“Count Dooku took a good portion of the population of Kiros and most of them have been brought here to be sold as slaves.”

It took a great deal of strength not to growl.

“I am aware.”

“Our mission was to liberate them and bring them home.”

(I want that too. I want to put them all on a ship and send them home to their families. To raze this wretched planet to the ground, to strangle that vicious cat with my bare hands, watch as the life drains form her eyes-)

He closed his eyes and didn’t reply. Kenobi pressed on.

“You could help us! This would add a great deal of leverage to your list.”

Rejection, bitter and acidic as it was, already rested on the tip of his tongue, when something clicked.

“My list?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, anger forgotten for the sake of building curiosity. He turned around and saw two sheepish expressions, which confused him further. “My list of what?”

The Togruta was murmuring something that must’ve been swearing and turned away, but Kenobi, despite the faint pink hue above his beard, cleared his throat and drew a big breath of air.

“The Jedi council has a list of your… ‘Collaborations’ and other ‘services’ that benefitted the Republic in case you’ll case needs some… softening.”

Ventress burst out laughing. He would’ve joined her if not for the incredulous look that formed on his face without his consent, eyes wide with disbelief, mouth open before a word he forgotten the second that sentence left Kenobi’s lips. Because, _wow._ They were collecting evidence _for him_? Did he really manage to wrap them around his little finger so much? Oh, those council meetings must be _glorious._ ‘ _Remember, we shall that only a hundred troops, Lord Vader has massacred, instead of a thousand.’ ‘Yes. Let us add that to the list of ‘other people would be beheaded for this and force knows how these can be counted as mitigating circumstances’._

This must be anything but unanimous vote. He was sure Mace Windu wouldn’t like him even if he was a _Jedi_ , let alone a Sith. While he never met the Vaapad user face to face, they had the (dis)pleasure of speaking via holo treaty before a few battles and based on the twitch of the man’s eye, would Windu be anything other than a Jedi, he’d dump Vader into the rivers of Mustafar and call it a night.

Kenobi was looking at him with poorly hidden nervous anticipation. Oh, yeah. He was supposed to answer.

(Damn it, Ventress, stop _laughing!)_

“That’s um… considerate? Listen, I don’t know what to say. It’s very nice of you to think of me, but I’m sure that the only thing that waits for me is a noose in case the Republic wins the war. Just like that’s the only thing that’ll wait for the Jedi if the Separatists win the war.”

“Sold to the seventh box for thirty thousand!”

He shot a look at Ventress, who just shrugged and leaned back in her seat, keypad in hand.

“The Separatists?” Kenobi asked and Vader heard a faint echo of _“Not ‘us’?”._

He gave the Jedi a tight smile.

“The Separatists. And I don’t know why this comes as a surprise to you all, but Sith and Jedi has been at each other’s throat since the beginning of the Orders. You imprison Sith, Sith kill Jedi.”

“You don’t kill Jedi.”

“I’m not a Sith.”

“So what’s the problem?” Tano asked, obviously irritated by their back and forth. “You are not a Sith, you don’t kill Jedi, why do you resist the help when it’s freely offered?”

“Because _they_ don’t know that difference. What I am and what the Sith are overlaps _so much_ that force-blinds have to squint real hard to notice the difference. Same with her.” He gestured to Ventress, who pretended not to listen in in the conversation. “We are dangerous, we are volatile and on the opposite side of war. Your efforts to help me are heartwarming, but ultimately they can bring your downfall. When the winner takes spoils, you cannot side with the spoils, or you’ll be thrown in with them.”

“Sold to the seventh box for twenty-five thousand!”

He sent an amused glance at the Dathomirian witch, who didn’t even acknowledge him doing it.

“As for your mission about the slaves. I can’t. You’re simply asking too much.”

_Wretched, selfish creature. This is your failure. Leo would know what to do._

(Well, he’s not here, is he?)

Seeing their crestfallen faces was hard. Sensing their sorrow in the Force was even harder, because neither of them was blaming him. Not even Tano, who stole a glance at his gloved hand before turning her eyes towards the floor. Guilt churned at his insides like never before. This was personal for him. They could never know how much he hated himself for turning his back.

“Sold to the seventh box for twenty thousand!”

And listening to the auction going on behind him was _not helping,_ it was driving him _crazy._

“Not at once, at least.” He found himself saying, all eyes turning back on him.

… _Ding-Dong, you’ve killed us all~_

(Shut up!)

_Why don’t you just relax and choose a type of grave for yourself? Would you like a shallow or a deep one? Or do you wanna share?”_

(Shut. Up.)

“Not once?” Kenobi’s voice was nauseatingly hopeful. Force, he fucked up so much.

“I’m planning on staying close to the Queen. Let her keep me as a pet for a few months. I can get you into the Zygerrian system, one of you high position, the other low. I’ll help you keep in touch with your men and smuggle out the slaves, small groups at a time.”

Both Jedi perked up at this, then immediately looked to Ventress in dread.

“Sold to the seventh box for thirty thousand!”

Rolling his eyes, he looked directly into Kenobi’s eyes and leaned closer to the witch.

“Did you hear anything, dear?”

“Hm? You were saying something?”

Seeing their eyes widen in recognition was _hilarious,_ but completely understandable. When he began to… engage in sexual intercourse with Ventress (see, he can talk like an adult when he chooses to) and their Force presence kept merging over and over again, keeping secrets became _really hard_. So they decided to share instead. Ventress would occasionally help him here and there in his gallant rebellion against Sidious and in exchange, he won’t cut her down in cold blood once his leash was ripped apart. (Mind blowing sex…ual intercourse wasn’t enough to still his hand. Hey, _no one_ said this relationship was _healthy.)_

“Sold to the seventh box for seventy thousand credits!”

“Seventy thou- What the hell Ventress?” He hissed looking over his shoulder to see a Togruta male being led away. He was nicely built and had a powerful aura. His emotions were clear on the force, thought they were a little muddied. Maybe he’d been drugged to reduce his resistance?

“He’s to keep me company while you roll around between the sheets with your queen.”

“She is not my queen and you’re grossly overstepping every possible line of consent.”

“I’m sure I can manage to convince him to make this mutual.”

Shame and embarrassment was radiating from the two Jedi at their bickering. Giving credit where credit was due, if the two Jedi weren’t present, they would be in the middle of disrobing. She already looked a second away from tearing his robe down and he was fairly sure there would be no objection.

“So!” He exclaimed, turning to the Jedi. “Do we have a deal?”

“I suppose there’s no way we can contact the Council about this, is there?”

“I’m afraid there’s none.”

“In that case, I believe we have no choice.”

He shifted in his chair, one leg across the other, fingers put together in a contemplating manner. He needed a plan. He’ll have to establish a channel with the clones, letting them know what was happening and that so far everything was under control. They needed to know about this new agreement. The two Jedi will be needed to be positioned into a strategically beneficial spot to work and he still needed to claim the Queen’s undivided attention for himself.

“The auction’s almost over. I’m going to head out.” Ventress said, standing up. He did not look at the satin sliding forward on her thighs. He did _not_. “I wouldn’t want to get into a hiss-fight with your chosen lady.”

“It’d wouldn’t be much of fight. You’d tear her to pieces in seconds.”

“It’s not like you’ll not strange her with your own two hands once this is over.”

“Ventress!” He said in a lecturing tone. “She’s a Queen. It’d be rude of me _not_ to strangle her.”

“By what logic?” Tano asked with a confused grimace.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

He grabbed the force suppression cuffs and messed up their circuits with a hand wave, rendering them useless and only then did he put it back on the Jedi, who shot him grateful looks., Ventress left and let the other slaves she bought into the room besides that one male she got for herself and yes, it’ll be better not to think about that. With a force nudge he told the two Jedi to come closer. As he stood up from his previously harmless position, all of the slaves flinched back and that _hurt._

He fished out a small communicator from one of his hidden pockets and gave it to Kenobi as he passed between the two of them, walking over to examine the Togrutas. None of them looked hurt, only scared and possibly a little dehydrated. He’ll have to fix that soon enough. When he walked back to his seat, he spoke with a low voice, only audible to the two Jedi who stood behind him.

“The Queen’s coming. Whatever I do, you’re rolling with it.”

He got two uncertain confirmation through the force right before the door opened. Of course, it was Miraj. His first glance fell to her whip which he masked by looking at the sway of her hips as she came closer.

“Your Grace! It’s a welcome surprise being in your presence. What can I do for you?”

“You’ve been playing coy with me all night, my lord. Perhaps it’s time for you to give up your name.”

He let a smirk tug his lips as he took half a step back, leaning forward a little to chip away from the height difference, letting her feel in control for a few seconds. Like he would seriously cower before a slaver wench like her.

“That defeats the purpose of the masks, Your Grace.”

“Nonsense! I’ll hear your name now!”

And so he removed his mask and watched her eyes widen and mouth go slack with recognition. Watched as her whole body stilled like it lightning struck beside her and then… desire, burning, all-consuming enveloped her aura and he knew in an instant that this one wanted to have him every way possible. She’ll wear him as a trophy for everyone to see, salivate at the chance to command him, even for a moment, even if it was just the two of them.

Revulsion rose to meet the Queen’s feelings from the Padawan beside him. Kenobi’s shields were better than that, but his little apprentice couldn’t reign in her disgust. Miraj was projecting so hard he was sure that he wouldn’t even need to pry, only pay close attention and he’ll hear her thoughts crystal clear.

“Lord Vader! I was unaware of your visit! My apologies for failing to recognize you.”

“No need for apologies, your Grace.” With a few steps he stalked closer, voice coming as a deep rumble from his chest. “I was planning to surprise you. I arrived with one gift, now I found another one for you.”

With a show of gripping an invisible chain, he pulled Kenobi closer. The man stumbled forward and both his and his Padawan’s realization rang clear in the Force, though he was sure Ahsoka was glaring daggers at his back. He could feel the flames of her fury lash out at his presence and paid no heed. The elder Jedi was much more subdued, though no less ruffled by the manhandling. And Vader wasn’t even done yet.

He grabbed Kenobi’s neck and made him turn his head to the side, like he was showing of a valuable trophy. The gesture looked rough but it was mostly just uncomfortable.

“I felt your presence lash out with a desire to own this one. No doubt you’ve recognized him.”

“General Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The Queen said, proving that indeed, she knew the man in question. “A Jedi Master and a recognized figure of the Republic.” The Force was swirling around the woman. ‘ _I want him, I want him, I want him’_ it chanted and Vader wished _so much_ that it was her throat in his hand.

“Not here, Your Grace. Here, he’s nothing but a _slave_.”

The hiss in his words could’ve been mistaken for triumph and glee, but it was hatred and nausea. ‘ _Stay strong, Kenobi. I’ll try to keep her eyes on me.’_ He was sure his message reached the man, because he felt some of the tension leave his body. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a bright mind on his own. He wouldn’t have bested the Separatists over and over again if not so. He knew what his plan was and for a second, Vader mourned the connection that could’ve been between them. The understanding that connected their presence. Maybe in a different world, they’d have made quite a team.

“And he’s yours.”

“Mine?”

This time, Vader did raise a shield to block out every disturbing emotion from the woman and extended the curtsy to the two Jedi. His dark presence swallowed it all up like a black hole did with a cloud of dust, leaving nothing to the other side.

“Indeed, Your Grace.” And he pushed Kenobi down to his knees. “ _Stay_ ” He commanded, both outside and in the Force. ‘ _Don’t react.’_

“But he’s a resourceful one, isn’t he?” The Queen asked, one clawed finger sinking into the Jedi’s hair, though her step was angle towards Vader instead. “What if he escapes?”

He let a sharp grin take over his face, malicious amusement tinkle in his eyes and while they were still talking about Kenobi, she only had eyes for him now and in turn, he gave her most of his attention.

“He can try.” A whisper. A promise.

“And what about my other present, My Lord?”

“You wish to know?”

“You wish for me to ask?”

Each word brought the two of them closer to each other. This time when the Padawan’s revulsion rose sky high, he couldn’t help but agree. It was heartwarming though that he felt a small tinge of pity towards him on the surface. Good to know that at least _one of them_ acknowledges his discomfort.

“You’re a Queen. You don’t need to ask. You take.”

And take she did. She wasn’t as rough with her kisses as Ventress was, but her nails still marked his skin. The style of her thinking was familiar and so were the small nudges that she used to back him to the energy field. He almost had to physically restrain himself from responding the same way he usually did. She wasn’t like Ventress. Despite her stronger than average human built, the might of a Dark Sider would sweep her away like a tide does with the sand castle.

“Your visit promises to be a very pleasurable one, Lord Vader.”

_Kriff everything._

“Glad that you’re seeing that way, Your Grace.”

_Force, just kill me._

***

Watching Vader flirt with the Queen was the biggest cognitive dissonance Obi-Wan ever had to endure.

His gestures, his tone, even the looks he sent her when she wasn’t even watching spoke about an all-powerful man courting a mate he deemed worthy. Desire and passion that was alien to a Jedi in a fundamental level. The dark side around him was stronger than ever, looping his emotions into an endless circle and amplifying it to eternity. Queen Miraj gave as good as she got. She was possessive of his time, his attention and his words, showing off her wealth and her most prized slaves but also kept them at arms-length so the dark lord’s attention could be mostly hers alone.

And only one of them was sincere.

Part of Obi-Wan felt sorry for the man. The shimmering, bubbling fury in his aura was always present, especially when it came to slavery. Their shared touches were always followed up with a flash of revulsion in his force presence. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to take that whip out of the queen’s hand and beat every slaver bloody with it, then hanging them one by one.

It’s been a week since their arrival to Zygerria. The three of them worked hard and fast and by the morning of the second day, the channels were established and shielded. The Jedi Council was left out of the collaboration via a last minutes decision of the dark sider. He refused to elaborate _why_ he wanted to keep his help as a secret, but Obi-Wan tried to respect his decisions until he found out the reason behind them. The clones were taking positions in groups outside the capital’s walls, waiting for the freed slaves to export them.

Miraj was adamant of giving both him and Ahsoka force suppressing collars. Vader let her do it without a fuss. Then as soon as her attention was elsewhere their resident dark lord fried the vital part of the collar, making it an uncomfortable accessory at worst. Ahsoka was allowed to explore the palace as the queen gave the three of them (mostly Vader and they were forced to tag along) a tour. She found escape routes they could use later.

The first night was the worst. The motions Miraj was projecting towards him were easy to misread as something he’d rather never reciprocate if it came down to it, but, to his soul lifting relief, turns out she just wanted a trophy guard. A Jedi Knight to flaunt around, to command. Other than that, she barely paid him any attention.

After the third day she and Vader stopped circling around each other and began sharing courters. Obi-Wan immediately noticed the small spot of darkness in her presence the next morning, since her force signature was so small in the first place. In a Jedi it would be so much more subtle, almost impossible to find. Out of panic, he checked both himself and Ahsoka for something like that and then immediately felt ashamed for doing so. He found nothing. Of course not. As Vader said, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t say anything about it. However, the sight alone was disturbing and made him shudder. Like a worm swimming around in an eyeball. He knew Vader saw him noticing.

His morals were in conflict with his thoughts. After seeing people regularly whipped, humiliated and abused for the amusement of a sadistic few, it was hard to feel any sympathy for the likes of Miraj and her upper class. So he said nothing. He took note that there were more and more dark spots every morning, Vader no doubt using her pleasure to distract her from what he was doing.

On the eight morning, it was just him and Ahsoka on the balcony, waiting beside the two chairs and the table where the Queen and her new consort usually ate their breakfast. Only this time, it was only Vader who came out in a robe.

“Stop stretching your necks. She won’t come.”

He no doubt noticed how he instinctively shared an alarmed glance with Ahsoka at this. Only the two of them knew about the revulsion rolling around under the man’s skin whenever he had to touch her, talk to her or even breathe the same air. For a second he thought Vader snapped and in turn, snapped her neck as well.

“Oh, stop panicking. I just gave her a mean headache, then ‘helped her’ sleep it off.”

“She deserves it.” Ahsoka hissed, venom in her voice. “Filthy slavers.”

Being a slave, even under a ‘master’ like Vader who treated them like equals in private and humane when in public, would change anyone’s perspective. Others still treated them as lesser than the dirt they were walking on. A thing they could use as they saw fit. Admittedly, their treatment was somewhat better since no one dared to damage the possessions of the dark lord, but they still had to watch the other slaves being beaten and abused in every corner.

“They’ll get what’s coming for them. Is everyone ready for the first group?”

“Captain Rex said the troops are in positions.” Obi-Wan said, thinking back on his conversation with his men last night.

“I’ve selected eight persons for now.” Ahsoka folded her arms before herself. She spent a lot of time with the other slaves. “They can be trusted not to raise attention to themselves and the others know to keep quiet about it.”

“Good. I’ll take the Queen out of the palace today to ‘get some fresh air’. The majority of her guards will come with us. That’s the most I can do.”

Obi-Wan found himself nodding and when Ahsoka went to alert the soon to be free slaves about the new decisions, it was just the two of them. He looked over his … ally? Yes, Vader was his ally. He looked him over from head to toe and couldn’t help but notice how worn down he looked compared to his old self. And that doesn’t even cower how he looked at the beginning of the war. His force presence was much, _much_ darker. Slipping into old habits, he almost advised the man to meditate on his feelings before he caught himself. Vader wasn’t his Padawan, not even a Jedi. There was no telling how he would take to being lectured.

“The reprimand is on your face, Kenobi. What did I do this time?”

Almost cringing for getting caught, he cleared his throat.

“Nothing, don’t mind me.”

“Is this about the Queen? Don’t tell me you pity her.”

There was fury in his voice now, yet somehow he managed to sound defensive. He didn’t really fault the man for his more explosive than usual anger, this place was clearly taxing him. Yet he still noticed that lingering shame, just on the border of the man’s presence. He just didn’t know what he was ashamed of.

“It’s not that. It’s just that slow corruption you’re using.” He said with a careful tone. “It goes against my nature and my teachings to stand by and do nothing.”

The blond man scoffed, clearly even more irritated.

“Oh, that’s rich. It goes against your nature to let a slaver get what’s coming for them, but leaving millions oppressed in chains doesn’t?”

He resisted the urge to sigh. Vader misunderstood him. Again. It was a developing habit of his and the most frequent source of discord between them, despite not being enemies. Although Vader had no vendetta against the Jedi, the Code and their desire to stay neutral clearly ruffled the man’s feathers to an unprecedented degree.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?” The hiss was low and _dangerous_. Obi-Wan realized too late that he might’ve kicked the hornet’s nest. “I don’t think so. Your message is loud and _kriffin_ clear. It’s not that I don’t understand. It’s that you’re _wrong_.” Before he noticed, Vader was in his face, not exactly looming over, but his presence sure made it feel so. “You just don’t admit it. Even to yourself.”

“We cannot just barge into planets and revolutionize their economy! We’d be named vigilantes and prosecuted on every step! You were the one who preached about the cost of siding with the spoils. What do we achieve if we’re branded criminals and scattered into the wind?”

He wanted the man to understand. It’s not about wanting to help. It’s about capability.

“Oh, now _this_ is rich! And you call the Sith the selfish ones! You can twist my words all you want, but the fact that you’ve grew complacent and comfortable in the status quo is obvious. I worked two years in the Outer Rim to change things, yet never _once_ did I meet a Jedi trying to help us! So how about you get off from your high horse and just think about the _precious_ _Republic_ for a moment and contemplate if it’s really worth dying for when their peace is a _lie._ ”

The false Sith Lord stormed away, forgetting completely about the breakfast he didn’t even touch once, leaving him to his frustration. Obi-Wan watched him go and shook his head. Vader was always hot headed and ruled by his own ideals and convictions. He never once missed a chance to lunge head first into dangerous situations, not caring for his own safety, since he didn’t need to keep anyone safe from his own team. Someone as impulsive as him could never understand what it meant to double and triple check every decision just to make sure your actions didn’t hurt your family in the process.

The Jedi can’t just drop everything and become outlaws. They had to take care of their younglings, their Padawans and everyone else who were under their protection. They were peacekeepers. They were the ones who made the negotiations go smoothly and they were the ones who were the best equipped to stop violence from escalating. They were the voice of truth in the senate. If they become outlaws, their words will instantly become questionable and their ability to help will evaporate in a single day.

It makes him sick to the core, but it was true. You either take care of your own or everyone else.

Yet there’s a though in his mind, demanding attention.

‘Only a Sith deals in absolutes’

***

Obi-Wan wasn’t present when the freed slaves were taken to safety. Miraj kept him on too short leash to allow him to remain in the palace while she and Vader were outside. So he had to accompany them. It was hard, being this close to the man while he was still furious from their morning confrontation. His force presence was lashing out at Obi-Wan’s when he tried to make amends through the force, so after a while he left the man alone.

The problem was that Vader’s emotions were all over the boat. He looked dark and sinister between the golden veils and velvet cushions. The queen didn’t really notice his dark mood, more occupied with her own anecdotes, the dancers and the food. The false Sith Lord smirked and laughed when prompted, but otherwise barely spoke, keeping his eyes on the water.

Eventually, even the Queen noticed her consort’s brooding and she slipped down from her cushion to join the man on his. Obi-Wan almost flinched at the roaring darkness that erupted from Vader, revulsion and fury building up into an all-consuming tide.

“What is wrong, my love? You seem troubled.” 

“Don’t burden yourself with my problems, Your Grace.” Vader dodged, frowning at his wine. “I’d rather not ruin this afternoon.”

Miraj didn’t relent so easy. Obi-Wan opted to only listen and not look when her fingernails began to wander on the false Sith’s bare arm, rather choosing to follow Vader’s example and keep his eyes on the water.

“Is this about the Count’s message?”

“I’d rather not talk about Lord Tyrannus.”

“Do you disagree with him?”

“I don’t need to agree, I just need to follow orders.”

“Somehow you don’t strike me as one too keen on blindly following orders.”

There was a small silence then with faint rustling noises. Obi-Wan found it hard to keep himself from wincing. Vader’s projecting was so forceful, he almost believed the man really flung the woman over the railing and into the water and not just imagined it for his own amusement.

“You should take your mind off of the war. Think about something more pleasant.” Her voice was barely more than a purr at this point. “Perhaps your little nemesis-wanna-be distracts you too much.”

Obi-Wan suppressed a wince.

“He is a respected leader of the Republic army.”

Miraj chuckled deeply from her chest.

“You said it, my love. He’s no longer a General. He’s a slave.” Obi-Wan felt a little pleasant twinge in his chest when Vader’s aura flared up in outrage. Despite their morning disagreement, Vader would never miss a chance to be furious when anyone called them slaves. “Maybe we should hammer home the difference. Kenobi! Come here!”

He had to concentrate on keeping himself from showing the uneasiness that made nest in his chest. He turned around slowly and almost frowned. Vader was still lying in the same position as before, but now the Queen was all over him. His flesh hand was around her waist, keeping her close. Maybe it was the Jedi training, or maybe it was the cognitive dissonance caused by the not-Sith Lord’s emotions in the force, but the affection seemed completely one sided. Some part of him found it viciously amusing how quickly the man managed to reduce the queen into a lust driven mess. Maybe Miraj fell for it so easily because she never imagined anyone would dare to fashion _her_ into a trophy when usually she was the one who did that.

“Your Grace.”

Taking a step closer, he bowed his head, making a show of shooting a nervous glance at Vader. He was playing the part of a defeated leader, after all, one who had all the reasons to be terrified of his captor. The fear gained some honest angle when she took the whip from her waist and offered it to the Dark Lord with a sultry grin.

The blond sent a single glance at the whip, but didn’t take it.

“I don’t need false power plays to raise my mood, love. Beating those who’re down give little to no satisfaction. Not to mention I wasn’t the one who defeated him in the first place.”

Somehow Obi-Wan knew from the mourning echos in the force that he won’t get away this easily. Miraj seemed to be all over her new ‘brilliant’ idea and looked displeased at the rejection.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my dear. Taking off the frustration always helps.”

“I’d rather take my frustration out in a battle. A real battle. I’m a warrior, Your Grace, forged in blood and death. In real risks. Anything that has no power balance leaves me unsatisfied.”

“Then let’s take off his collar. It’s not like he can defeat you with the force either.”

Now her play was clear. This was a twisted amusement for her. She wanted to see the man she was lusting after beat up someone who was forced to obey her commands. Obi-Wan knew enough people like her. She’ll no doubt find a way to twist the situation in her head so the two of them were fighting over her.

“Weren’t you the one who was afraid of Kenobi being resourceful and trying to escape?”

“That was before I saw your power with my own eyes, dear. Come on. I promise it’ll help. Clear the stage!”

Obi-Wan shot one last look at Vader, but the man’s face was unreadable. Even his force presence was closed off and when he tried to reach out, he might as well have ran into a brick wall. The false Sith Lord stood up with carefully controlled motions, rolling his shoulders. He was also, very pointedly, not looking at either Miraj or him. Vader ignored the offered whip once more. Obi-Wan almost missed his own light saber being thrown at him. Huh. He never knew the man always kept it handy. Good to know.

“My dear?”

The Queen’s voice was a little less self-assured now and Obi-Wan failed to resist the glee that bubbled up in his chest at her discomfort.

“If we fight, we fight. I’m not a circus clown. If he wants to kill me, he’ll have the chance to do it.”

Though Vader was closed off, the Queen was nervous now. Obi-Wan had a feeling this was a very carefully coerced reaction that Vader was working on behind the scenes. He was adamant on making her eat her words, or at least deny her the chance to enjoy an open humiliation. He made it look like she just staged the loss of one of her new favorite toys. Obi-Wan felt a newfound dread wake in his chest towards the man in front of him.

Vader clearly knew how to manipulate, with and without the force.

The collar was on the ground with a wave of the Dark Lord’s hand to make the show complete. Obi-Wan was still unable to establish eye contact, so he knew not how far the other is willing to go in this little play and it made him _really_ nervous.

Their duel was less flashy and wide spread than usual. The two of them were always able to dance around each other for at least ten minutes, sometimes even twenty, only stopping for a few seconds to regain their footing and gather enough strength for the next onslaught. When they were at each other’s throat, all bets were off. Always. There was no such thing as ‘dirty fighting’. Everything was free to do.

Like now. He focused too much on the other’s light saber to notice his free hand sneaking up on him and suddenly his throat was in a deadly grip. He grabbed the metal wrist, but it was already too late, the fingers around his neck refused to let oxygen into his lungs.

He thrashed in the man’s grip, scrambling to push him away, to get free, to _breathe._

Vader bent him backwards, holding him down.

For a few seconds he’d thought the man would kill him. He was unable to free himself. Eyes shut tight, he forgot who he was fighting. He forgot that this man spared his life, his Padawan’s life and his men’s lives over and over again, forgot all the provided chances for escape, all the distraction needed, all the tips given freely. He only remembered blazing yellow eyes that sometimes looked at him with all the might of the Dark Side behind them.

That’s why when he opened his eyes and saw blue, the world finally righted itself. Everything slid back into its place.

That’s why those blue eyes reminded him instantly that even when he’s seconds from death, he has nothing to fear from _this_ opponent.

Because even when Vader _looks_ like he aims to kill him, he _always_ leaves a chance for escape.

That was when he noticed that his legs were free.

After the kick, after he got to breathe, did he manage to _really_ fall into rhythm. Up until that point, he was afraid of Vader. Because it was impossible not to be at least a _little_ afraid of Darth Vader when you don’t know his intentions. But after he got out of that grip, Obi-Wan finally recognized the figure he was fighting with. Recognized the man he was starting to lose sight of in this mess, the man who was _obliged_ to wear the mask of cruelty in order to do good here.

He recognized the face he accepted help from.

It was baffling, to be honest. Only trusting Vader _after_ he almost choked the life out of him. It was ridiculous. Unique in the most gruesome way, yet somehow so simple and obvious. Vader, who was burning in the center of chaos and war somehow managed to embody the image of peacefulness. He would be capable of bringing death and misery. He has the power to do the greatest destruction. And he _chooses_ to be merciful. He _chooses_ to be kind. He _chooses_ to bear punishment for doing the right thing.

And Obi-Wan had faith in him. Trusted him to a degree that might be foolish.

He trusted his _enemy_ to show _mercy._

After that it wasn’t just Vader dragging Obi-Wan up in speed and strength until the Jedi failed in one of those. It wasn’t a predator pursuing and a prey trying to defend himself. Obi-Wan finally slipped back into their usual routine and managed to push back, not fearing the consequences. It wasn’t a one sided stage fight, rather a duel of wills.

He had no idea how long were they at each other’s throat. The world around them only existed for brief moments when they abused the environment to their advantage. All he knew that it came to a crashing and sudden stop when he was standing on higher ground while Vader was stalking around the lower deck of the ship, contemplating if he should jump or not.

Obi-Wan almost warned him not to try it, but stopped himself. It’s not like he’d mutilate the man, even if he did. His thoughts were in shambles, like they always were during their duels. Vader was a dark sider, but he didn’t _deserve_ death. That alone was enough to throw any Jedi off.

None of them would cut down the dark lord, even if he jumped.

Which he did. Just not as Obi-Wan expected. All his previous knowledge of Vader indicated that the man will try a flip over his head. That he’ll go for the needlessly flamboyant move instead of the safe one. He was always playing around, even when the fight was semi-serious.

That was why when he leapt up into Obi-Wan’s personal space, not even attacking, just pushing him back with his mere presence, Obi-Wan panicked. His brain stopped working as his expectations crumbled, thoughts coming to a screeching halt. Instinct guiding him instead of strategy, he took step back, tried to get away, only for his leg to sink into emptiness. He was at the edge and falling…

falling…

falling…

A strong hand grabbed the front of his tunic and he was pulled back up, crashing into the pretender Sith Lord’s chest. Before he could completely realize what happened, he was pushed back onto the boat with a red saber at his throat.

“You lost, Kenobi.”

He lost. He always loses. And not because Vader defeated him. He lost because Vader saved him. From falling, from dying, from being humiliated, from his ignorance and from lying to himself. He lost, because Vader was his exact opposite, his mirror image. Vader was the dark one who always gave and Obi-Wan was the light one who always took. He lost because everything about their agreements were one-sided.

Vader lost his reputation and his arm to save the woman Obi-Wan holds dear.

Vader was the one punished for disobedience.

Vader had to be the one compromising.

And Obi-Wan lost because the only thing he can offer in exchange were empty wins and equally empty words of platitude. Obi-Wan lost because there was nothing he could give.

And he dreaded the day Vader would decide that he had given enough.

***

Turns out, slavery was a bad thing. Right? What a shock! What a twist!

It also turns out that fake relationships and pretended lust can create really uncomfortable situations. Like, for example, waking up to the sweet, caressing rays of the morning sun, fresh air rushing in through the balcony door and an unprecedented desire to strangle your bedmate. Who… wasn’t here?

Frowning and looking around, he found a tray of food at the foot of the bed with a note.

_‘I’ve noticed you being in a bad mood in the last few days. Take a day for yourself, love._

_Kisses, Miraj~’_

Way to ruin a man’s appetite. He put down the paper before the urge to tear it into pieces had a chance to become too overwhelming. Reaching out with the force, he felt Kenobi’s presence linger in the other room. The man’s shields were as good as ever, yet a faint hue told him that the Jedi was… nervous? No, worried. Kenobi was worried and he was slipping up.

He did the force equivalent of poking someone on the shoulder, drawing attention to himself. Just as he expected, the Jedi Master came into the bedroom, arms actually held in a closed off stance as he caressed his neatly trimmed beard.

“Want some?” He asked, already trying to forget about the note with the help of the food, which was admittedly _delicious_.

“No, I’ve already eaten. You go ahead and satisfy your ravenous appetite.”

“Your loss.”

He waited for a few seconds, since he wanted to give the man a chance to come clean about his worries on his own volition. He also used those seconds to stuff his mouth with a few bites of... he’d rather not know what kind of meat this was, but it was _sweet_ and _crunchy_. Not bad.

“So? What’s got your sails in a twist?” He asked once it was clear that Kenobi was adamant on staying silence.

Before Kenobi could open his mouth to deny, he shot him a ‘don’t take me for a fool’ look, silencing the Jedi in the process. The silence settled back between them. Kenobi sat down at the foot of the bed and kept glancing at him with those lost and hopeful expression. Great. He could smell another ‘favor’ in the air already. How many were there already? He lost count after hundred.

“You know there are these magical things called ‘words’ that you can use to communicate your worries towards the rest of the miserable world, right?” He then asked when it became clear Kenobi wasn’t going to say anything.

“My worries?” The bastard had the nerve to raise his eyebrow sarcastically.

Vader resisted the under to stab him with a fork.

“Or whatever is giving you vibes worthy of a holo drama’s main character.”

This time Kenobi chuckled.

“I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“Yet.”

“My apologies, these days might be getting to me, but are you trying to be considerate?”

He opened his mouth to _reject the notion_ … and then stopped. Huh? Was he considerate? One could make an argument that Kenobi’s gloomy projections were starting to get on his nerves, but even he wasn’t that deep in denial. ( _Yet_ ) The Jedi was still the picture image of serenity compared to him, and another drop in the ocean would change nothing.

Maybe he _was_ considerate…

_Blasphemy!_

“I may be.” He said, after a few moments of silence, trying to get back control over the discussion. Sometimes giving in was the way of leading, or something. “I mean, I’m not _incapable_ , per say, I just refuse to do so. It damages my reputation.”

“I don’t see how that could suffer more.”

“Careful now, Master Jedi, I’m armed with a fork and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Finally the Jedi let out an amused snort and his eyes began to twinkle with his usual mirth. (not like he aimed for this, but anything is better than that self-deprecating aura Kenobi was projecting until now) The silence was so much more comfortable after that. Vader gave his undivided attention to the breakfast, which was _really_ delicious, damn them.

(Traitors!)

_Who?_

(My tastebuds! I’d sooner enjoy ration bars than the food of slavers!)

_Well, if you put it that way… Anyway, traitors get executed. Do you intend to cut out your tongue? Because that would be an improvement, just saying._

(You know what would also be an improvement? Me, not talking to myself in my head.)

 _Too late! Besides, didn’t you start this because you couldn’t stand the silence in_ their _absence?_

(It was a momentary lapse of judgment. You can go away now, I’d rather sit in silence.)

He was almost done with his breakfast and the Jedi was still silent. Ugh. A big favor then. Great, just what he needed. Though it _might_ provide a necessary distraction from Miraj. Her neck had a particular type of siren’s call and keeping his hand away was an uphill battle. Each time she opened her mouth, it became harder and harder not to strangle her before the entire court.

_What is it with you and choking anyway?_

(In my defense, I was raised by _and_ amongst insane people.)

“Do you need anything?”

The Jedi’s outburst was so sudden he stopped chewing at once. He looked up with an inquiring gaze. Kenobi coughed a little into his fist, clearly embarrassed. He gave his brain a few seconds to try and process the meaning behind the question, but didn’t manage to come up with an answer that wasn’t far-fetched. Or perverted, but that was included in far-fetched.

“I…um, no?” _Seven hours of meditating, someone you can strangle, three bottles of alcohol, maybe some drugs- “_ A bath maybe?” _A consenting sex partner who wasn’t a slaver, a one way ticket off this wretched planet, six coordinates and passwords to free my team- “_ And some good news?”

Kenobi cringed at the last one. Great. Just great.

“Good news?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m afraid I have no news at the moment.”

No news? Yeah, that’ll do, he’ll take that.

“No news is good news for now. But that’s not what got you so worked up. So come clean, Kenobi. The sooner you state what you want the sooner I can get it for you.”

And apparently his (admittedly poorly chosen) words of reassurance did nothing to ease the Jedi Master’s worry. If anything, they made him even more upset. An uncomfortable favor then. Vader pushed away his plate and laid down on the bed on his belly, head propped on his hands.

“Come now, it cannot be that bad. Look at me, my _Master_ already whored me out to the queen, there’s few requests that could get lower than th-“

“Stop!” Vader bit his tongue at once. He never heard the Jedi sound so ashamed and defeated before. Kenobi hid his eyes behind his fingers, rubbing his forehead in the process. “Please, just… stop.”

Alright, so this wasn’t a job for Darth Vader. Or any kind of Vader. Suppressing a sigh, he rolled up his metaphorical sleeves and dug deep into his own mind, dragging _Anakin Skywalker_ to the surface. Commander Skywalker, who was trained to help his team members in times of distress, identify the problem, cut it our root and stem then ease the mind after that. The light presence of his old self needed a few minutes of coaxing until his surface began to bloom golden again, like it used to be before his Fall. In about ten seconds, instead of an all-consuming black hole, his force presence was a slightly-darker-than-it-should-be-but-still-radiant supernova.

The Jedi Master let out a gasp beside him. By the time he turned around to look _Anakin_ in the eyes, _Anakin_ already stretched out through their small bond, cowering his smaller presence in his own, not intruding, but nurturing and calm.

“Vader, you can… What?... How?”

“I was already used to the Dark before the _Master_ got his hands on me. My people don’t shy away from either side.” He rewarded the baffled expression with a small smile. “You are stressed, my friend. I can sense the slagging in your meditation.” To prove his point, he did the force equivalent of wiping away a dark spot with a caressing thumb, to which Kenobi let out a startled gasp. “I know this place is taxing to someone as bright as you. The darkness weighs heavy, even for me.”

 _Anakin_ stood up from the bed and began to look for the new consort robes he was obliged to wear for court. They were all black fabric and gold plates, simultaneously flowing with every step while sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Restricting. Especially on his wrists and neck. This was without a doubt Miraj’s unique way of collaring him. You cannot chain up a Sith, but you can make subtle changes to show the world that he belongs to you.

Disgusting bunch.

“Go back to your room. Use my presence to meditate. I’m giving you a day off.”

“That’s just it, I can’t do this. I… I feel like, like abusing you, this whole deal and-“

He silenced Kenobi with a small, but reassuring smirk and a finger raised to his mouth.

“Meditate. We’ll talk after I’m done with Miraj for the night.”

***

Never before did he need so much time to sink into meditation and never before did it feel so liberating, once he managed. Vader’s (no, not Vader’s, this isn’t Vader, this man is anything _but-)…His_ presence shone bright like a homing beacon and _Force,_ it was larger than _stars_. Once he got past his guilt and finally managed to latch onto _His_ presence enough to get into the currents of the force, Obi-Wan felt like he’d finally come home.

The day passed in a haze. He didn’t experience anything from it other than _His_ moods and emotions, all of them flaring up with a thousand colors upon the surface, lashing out like solar flares before dissolving back into the big whole. It was a chaotic and ever changing artwork, but peaceful. Obi-Wan felt like he was watching the calm sea of Naboo. He was sure should he concentrate enough, he’d hear the faint roar of the waves. But he didn’t.

He just let it wash over him on its own, natural way, cleaning out bits of darkness every time they collided with each other. _His_ force presence was a bubble of light around him and Obi-Wan was content forgetting about the rest of the galaxy. Everything else might spontaneously stop to exist and he’d never know.

The night came an eternity later, yet all too soon. The serenity around him was broken with a soft ‘click’ and a gentle prod in the force, the first since that morning.

 _He_ was standing in the doorway. For a second, Obi-Wan didn’t even recognize him. The image of Vader, all sharpness (his eyes, his chin, his shoulders, his-), cutting edges and _void_ was nothing like _Him_ , only soft curves (his face, his hair, his hands, his-), gentle angles and _life_. The colors matched and so did the sound, but not the movement, neither the expressions.

He stood corrected. _This_ was the biggest cognitive dissonance he had ever experienced.

“You look better.” _He_ observed, walking over to him.

“I feel better.” Obi-Wan stood up, a little heavy on his feet from kneeling all day.

“I’m glad to hear that.” From one of _his_ hidden pockets, _He_ produced a fruit. It was big and red. Obi-Wan liked it. Sweet and sour at the same time, leaving a pleasant aftertaste in the mouth for a long time. _He_ handed it out, waiting patiently until he took it and began to cut it up. “Are you ready to talk?”

Was he? He didn’t know. He wanted to offer something to _Vader_ in exchange for all the help he provided over and over again, wanted to know if there was anything he could do to _begin_ repaying the debt all Jedi owed the man. But there was no Vader now. It was only _Him._ This stranger he had never met before.

Now Obi-Wan’s head was filled with all the wrong questions.

 _Who_ are _you?_

_Where did you come from?_

_How could someone like you live in chains?_

_Who would_ dare?

It seems Obi-Wan was an open book to this _stranger_ because a small smile adorned _his_ features while _his_ eyes twinkled with understanding.

“I can change back if it makes this easier.”

“To be honest, that would only throw me off more.”

 _He_ nodded in a slow motion. It might’ve been Obi-Wan’s imagination, but even _his_ hair curled differently like this. He tried to summon the face he already knew so well, but the image crumbled to dust before. To be realistic, it was to be expected. There were no changes to identify. There was no _separate_ Vader, it was only _Him. He_ only felt different in the Force, but that was _everything._ One cannot dream up a face he’d never seen before.

It took him minutes to make up his mind. It didn’t help that _He_ was standing there, patient and smiling when Vader would be all nervous energy and annoyance by now.

“Who are you?”

Because that was the most important question of all. The Force created a radiant being like this and the Jedi _failed_ to find him before it was too late. A supernova was standing before him and they only met when he already collapsed some way, twisting beyond recognition.

The _stranger’s_ lips curved into a teasing smile.

“I’ve already told you my name.” Obi-Wan opened his mouth to object, but the blond pressed on. “ _Think,_ Kenobi. I’ve spoken my name, a long time ago.”

Was this some kind of riddle? It might be. _Vader_ would never have the patience for riddles, but this man just might. _He_ was already a complete opposite of everything he’d though he knew about the man. But that too wasn’t entirely true, now was it? _He_ was Vader, only more… muted. _He_ had a mischievous twinkle in _his_ eye. It was the same emotion, only when it was amplified in Vader they mistook it for madness.

‘Accentuates, the dark side does. Twist beyond recognition, it does.’

But the dark can’t twist what’s not already there.

The insanity used to be adolescent mischievousness.

The recklessness must’ve been bravery at one point.

The need to control could’ve been an urge of protectiveness. Once upon a time.

Vader cannot have what _He_ didn’t have. So if Vader doesn’t have patience for riddles, _He_ can’t have it either. But then what? Obi-Wan thought back on all the names he’d heard, all the titles spoken in hushed reverence, all the names that left millions of lips in a whisper of dread. He thought back all the time _Vader_ introduced himself.

_“Well met, Master Jedi. I am Lord Vader.”_

_“Hah! Close, but no! I am Darth Vader.”_

_“Vader, at your service.”_

_“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure before Senator. I am Darth Vader.”_

_“I admit you have me at disadvantage, my lord…”_

_“Anakin, Your Grace. Anakin-“_

_“_ Skywalker.”

 _Anakin Skywalker_ smiled at him with the radiance of a thousand suns and held out a hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Master Kenobi.”

The second their hands touched, something in their bond slid into place. What used to be only a tether in the force now linked them together with the strength of an iron chain. _Anakin’s_ presence was guarded with layers and layers of shields, but he allowed some emotions to slip through, felicity and _content_ being the strongest of them.

“I cannot tell you more, I’m afraid.” Anakin said, once their hands separated again. “It’s not the time yet. But _soon_. Once I’m free and have no strings on me. Then, if the force allows it, I’ll answer any question you might have.”

‘ _Once I’m free and have no strings on me.’_

“So Master Shaak Ti’s assumption was right. You’re Dooku’s slave.” It almost caused him physical pain to say those words.

Anakin’s face hardener to some degree and he was quick to object.

“ _No._ The _Master_ has me on a leash, that’s true. He chained me up where he wants me to be, but he _does not_ micromanage my actions. I have some obligations I need to meet, but how I reach those goals is on me.”

“Is that why you can find so many outs for us? Why you can give so many –“‘Favors’ he wanted to say, but the word got stuck in his throat. Because a favor would mean that the Jedi had no obligation to repay him, if possible. It would mean what Vade-Anakin suffered so much without asking for anything, without _expecting_ anything in return.

The man let out a heavy sigh. The look in his eyes was pure pity.

“I can help you, because it doesn’t matter. This war will have only one winner. Either the Separatists win or the Republic, you’re all going to lose anyway. _We_ are going to lose.” Anakin sat down at the edge of Obi-Wan’s bed, expression resigned. “You’ll be dead and I’ll be his lapdog for the rest of my days.”

‘ _What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?’ ‘Hundreds of senators are now under the influence of a Sith Lord called Darth Sidious.’_

No, that cannot be. There’s no way that the _whole Order_ missed the presence of a Sith in the Senate. But on the other hand it always bugged him that a man like _Dooku_ would be able to subjugate someone as chaotic and resourceful as Darth Vader. Dooku, for all his evil deeds and scheming, couldn’t hold a candle to _Vader_ who could take over a planet without an army or weapons. Someone like Vader would’ve found a way out of Dooku’s grip ages ago.

But a Sith Lord that managed to hide away from the whole Jedi Order, right under their nose, while taking over the government? Someone that resourceful and powerful would no doubt manage to chain Vader up, even if it’s only to a stale mate. Could it be? It’s not like Vader ever explicitly referred to Dooku as his Master. He only spoke about _The Master._

“You’re not working for Dooku, are you?”

Anakin let out a weak chuckle.

“No. I’m not.”

Sithspit. Force, they were in trouble. They needed to act soon. Who knows how deep the corruption of the Sith Lord has taken root already? It’ll take years even decades to undo the damage. He’ll need to act fast and-

“I need to warn the Council.”

“No.”

His brain came to a screeching halt.

“No?”

“No. You don’t understand.” Anakin stood up, walked close into his aura, his words only a whisper. “This war is a _joke_. It’s a play, a drama. You are but one of the pieces on the board, you cannot just walk away. The second you get out of your role, you’ll be crushed, along with your entire order.”

“There’s no way one Sith could do that. Not even two or three.” Along with Ventress and Dooku, this _Sidious_ might cause a serious damage, but…. “Would you stand with them?”

“I’d have no _choice._ ”

“Why? What did he take that could be so important that you’d strip away your morals and kill _innocents?”_

“ _He has my Team!”_ Anakin’s shout startled him, but the meaning behind those words shook him to the core. “I can’t turn against him. They are my family, my _only_ family. If I’d have to raze this whole galaxy to the ground for them, I _would._ Force knows I’d hate myself, but I’d do it anyway!”

“Then tell us where they are! There are thousands of Jedi, we can save them for you! Why don’t you just trust us?”

Despite Anakin’s previous outburst, the man only shook his head in a resigned manner, turning away his gaze. The way he looked down, the way he held himself, it all spoke of unbearable shame, guilt and self-blame. It was clear that whatever fed the anger behind Vader’s power was deeply rooted in Anakin Skywalker as well.

“Because you can’t trust me either.”

“But I do!” It was baffling, how easily the confession came. “I do trust you.”

“You can’t say that.” Anakin’s voice was hoarse. Force, he was _pleading._ “Please don’t say that.”

“Why not? You can be trusted. Force damn it, we trust you _to allow the abuse_. Do you realize how messed up this is?” Now his own shame was all over his force presence. “I _trusted you_ to take punishment for us and _expect nothing_ in return and it makes me _sick._ It makes me feel dirty and guilty every time I see your hand, your scars, every time I have to turn to you for help.”

“Kenobi, no. You can’t mean that. You can’t trust _this!”_

The second those words left his lips, Anakin’s force presence contorted right before his eyes. It hunched over, folded into itself over and over again, writhed in pain _right before his eyes._ Dark spots broke through the radiant barrier and repulsing darkness bubbled to the surface.

“No, no stop that!” His voice sounded panicked to his own ears.

He grabbed the man’s arms, as if that would somehow clean away the darkness he was feeling. But there was nothing to do. Wither and decay broke through again and again, swallowing up the light Obi-Wan tried so hard to keep safe. Through the connection, he felt the previously masterfully concealed corruption spread through the other’s radiant presence, folding it in into itself over and over until it became dense enough to turn into _Vader’s_ all-consuming vortex of darkness.

 _‘This is death. This can be nothing but death. Die, you’re watching him_ die. _’_

“ _Please,_ stop that, you’re _hurting yourself!”_

“It’s already done, Kenobi. This is who I am. Who I’ve been for a _long_ time now.”

Vader. This was Vader again. Straight posture, cold voice, sharp eyes. He was unapproachable once again. Despite himself, Obi-Wan felt a sob build in his chest. Watching a radiant presence like _Anakin’s_ wither and die right before his eyes was horrifying. Nausea hit him. He felt _sick._ The Sith did this. _Sidious_ did this. He must’ve took vicious satisfaction in contorting that bright and kind man into… into…

A _monster._ Compared to Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader was a monster.

Something flashed in the false Sith’s eyes, too small to recognize, yet through their still existing, writhing, _bleeding_ bond Oni-Wan felt the hurt and betrayal. He immediately realized what he had done, but found his tongue unable to form words.

“You are tired.” Vader said, not looking at him in the eye. “Rest now. We shall talk in the morning.”

“Anakin, no, wait I’m…”

The dark sider stilled for a few seconds, his back to Obi-Wan, posture going rigid at that name. He waited. Allowed him to form the words he so desperately wanted to say. The _apology_ was on his tongue but unable to break through the barrier of horror. The only thing that he saw was Anakin’s presence, slowly twisting beyond recognition, on loop, oven and over again.

_Dying. You saw him dying. And he is dying still, right now. And he will be dying tomorrow and the day after and the day after that._

‘ _It seems, not just kyber crystals can bleed from the dark side.’_

“I’m so sorry.”

It came out as an exhale, barely a word, but he felt it resonate through the bond. The blond took one last glance at him above his shoulder and despite his whole posture projecting Vader, his eyes were gentle. _Anakin._ Then the moment was over.

“Good night, Kenobi.”

He left then. Maybe he went to bed. Obi-Wan didn’t dare to check. He didn’t know what disgusted him more about this situation. Either Vader was too upset to sleep and will wander the corridors endlessly like he does when he is upset or he’ll have to go and lay down next to _that woman_.

Obi-Wan wished he could allow himself to weep, but rejected the urge.

He didn’t feel worthy.

***

Ahsoka watched Vader and her Master circle around each other the whole day. Just her luck. She is away from them for _one day_ (getting the slaves ready for the next extraction) and of course that’s when shit hit’s the fan.

The not-exactly-Sith Lord was more distant than usual. He didn’t acknowledge her or her Master’s presence, barely pretending to be interested in the Queen at his side as well. But unlike his usual dark moods, there was little to no anger around him. More like bitterness and something too close to resignation and _hurt._

Her Master was far worse.

Pale, refusing to eat, hunched over himself, silent. He didn’t even look at the dark sider, keeping to himself, content on resting his gaze on the floor. He looked _defeated_ and _ashamed_ and it made Ahsoka’s blood boil. This was Vader’s doing. It was obvious. Several scenarios raced through her mind, each worse than the other. The not-Sith was prone to angry outbursts in the last few days. But if he lashed out at her Master and _hurt him,_ she swears to the _Force…_

She all but pulled Obi-Wan into her room as soon as the ‘Royal Couple’ (ugh) entered their bedroom and the two of them were left without any other tasks for the day. The Jedi Master sat down at the table and just looked at the tea she put before him, not minding as the drink slowly went cold.

“Alright, Master. Spit it out. What did he do to you?”

Obi-Wan flinched and shame flared in his presence. Ahsoka bit his lip. She’s going to _gut_ Vader.

“Nothing, Padawan.”

“Bantha shit. He did something, it’s clear as day. Just tell me what he did, and I’m going to-“

“It was me.”

The information made her brain short circuit a little.

“What?”

Her Master sighed. He slowly, carefully told her what happened yesterday, along with the events of last night. He was speaking silently, almost whispering the whole time and the further he got, the more guilt stricken he looked, despite not really showing any outside signs. But it was there in his force presence. It was _everywhere._ Mortification didn’t even begin to cover it.

Ahsoka went from completely baffled, to surprised, to annoyed (of course he’d drop his true name in a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment), to shocked and in the end it all came out in the form of a long, suffering sigh.

“I called him a monster, Ahsoka. I didn’t say it, but he felt it. And now I don’t know what to do.”

She leaned back on her chair, rubbing her temples. Of course. What did she expect? This was Darth _kriffin_ Vader. Of course usual rules won’t apply to him. _Of course_ he could change his nature like he was changing clothes. _Of kriffin course_ he hears that _one_ instinctive thought that her Master didn’t really mean and takes it to heart.

It’s not like her Master wasn’t right, but _not like that kriff it._ Darth Vader, despite working his ass off to save people, still looked like a monster in the eyes of the Republic. The people who didn’t know about all the ways he helped their cause spat at his name because they didn’t know better. He killed, he kidnapped, he _conquered_ without any visible remorse. Of course that would seem like a far cry from ‘most ambitious ally amongst enemy ranks’.

“Did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?”

Her Master cringed.

“I tried. But _Force_ , Ahsoka, watching him _Fall_ was just… it was nauseating. He was _hurting, dying_ before my eyes and now I can’t _unsee_ it. I can’t even look at him without getting _sick_ at the twists of his presence.”

“But like… not in a bad way right?”

“Bad way?”

“It’s not… argh, force kriff it. You feel sorry for him. That’s not the same as being repulsed or disgusted.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate my pity either.”

Damn right he won’t. Vader… Anakin… Vaderkin? He was too prideful for something like that. And a hypocrite, but what’s new? _He_ can feel sorry for other’s and act on it, but he’d spit blood and poison and vitriol at anyone who dared to suggest _he_ might be worthy of pity. Talk about issues. _Lot’s_ of issues. Ahsoka wondered how much of those was present _before_ his Fall.

“You said he has some kind of team?”

“Yeah. He said this Sidious keeps him under his thumb with a threat to his family.”

“Then we find them and free them.” Obi-Wan shot her an unimpressed look. “Oh, come on! If he gets back his family or whatever they are, he can get away from all of this as well!”

“Yes, except we don’t know _who_ they are, _where_ are they kept prisoner, _how_ are they kept prisoner and how could we get there, sneak in, get them out and get to Vader without getting ourselves killed or worse. Whatever lock they are under, it kept _Darth Vader_ outside.”

“Maybe we should ask him then.”

“I already did. Look how that turned out.”

She shook her head.

“No. That was him running. You know him, Master. He needs control, he _despises_ being vulnerable. You scared him with your honesty.”

Obi-Wan frowned and finally, _finally_ he straightened his shoulder. A contemplating expression came over his face. He was probably watching back the whole conversation from memory, trying to examine it from an objective point of view. And the longer he did that, the more sure his expression became.

“You’re right. He threw me off with changing back his presence.”

“That bastard.” She cursed with a small, vicious smile. “He might be capable of being bright in the force, but he’s an ass if he wants to be. I bet he knew any Jedi would break out in hives, seeing someone Fall. Alright, so we get the info out of him. How?”

“We need to bargain. I scared him away with offering trust. But how about a bargain with a few failsafe?”

Just as she said. A hypocrite. Vader always offered freely and almost always from his own volition, yet the moment someone offers him help, he runs for the hills. Ahsoka rather didn’t think about _what_ caused him to be suspicious of generosity. Every day she was more curious about his upbringing. Whatever group produced a warrior like Darth Vader should be on the radar. Who knows what they did to fashion themselves into _that._

She often wondered why his… whatever the likes of him are calling each other didn’t came to help him. Vader’s face was one of the most well known in the whole galaxy. There’s no way they didn’t see him. Maybe they don’t know he needs help. Maybe they don’t _want_ to help. Or maybe their ‘help’ is the reason why the man has trust issues.

“We can talk to him in the morning. I’ll come up with a plan until then.”

It was good to see her Master back in the game. She was just nervous about the not-really-Dark Lord. Because Vader’s presence was, at that exact moment, roaring like a tempestuous sea.

***

He woke up to someone entering through the window. Foolish. According to his bio clock, they were barely past midnight. He kept his breathing slow and steady but listened to the sounds of the room. Or more likely, the lack of. There’s only one group who can be this light on their feet.

He lashed out with his presence the exact same moment she was on him. Wrestling in the bed without alerting the sleeping person beside them should've been impossible. Amusingly, both Vader and the intruder used the force to keep her asleep, thus they were free to roll around for a few seconds until one of them was down.

This time, it was him.

“You’re getting sloppy, dear. I’ve been here the whole day.”

Her voice spread a pleasant chill from his ear to his whole chest. Using his weight to turn the tables, he pushed her into the mattress, teeth only an inch from her neck right under her left ear.

“You wound me, love. I’d know you from a thousand.”

She chuckled and sank her nails into his arm, pressing against him with her smaller presence in the force. Not even trying to hide the pleasant groan, he let her maneuver their position once again until she was content. Ventress let out a pleased purr as her fingers slid down on his chest. However, her mood was ruined when she shot a hard glare at the queen still sleeping beside them.

“I’ve watched her as well. Small, stupid thing she is.” Her teeth were on his neck, sinking deep, drawing _blood._ “I wanted to rip her arms off.”

“Are you jealous?”

“I’m proud of my accomplishments. I’ve worked hard to get you in my bed and she got it for free.”

So she _was_ jealous. Adorable. She was also right and she knew it. It was clear from her gaze how much she enjoyed his fury in the force. She was teasing him, he knew. Talking about him like he was a piece of meat. Maybe he was, to her. An achievement. A trophy.

“Maybe you should tempt another then. One Sidious cannot rent out to anyone.”

His whole body tensed when she lowered herself, folding her arms on his chest and resting her chin upon them. This way, she was uncomfortably close to his neck. She could just lean forward and rip out his throat. Fucked was he in the head, since he found this thought kriffin _alluring_.

“He is petty because he cannot have your spirit. He thinks that defiling your body might break your will.”

He chuckled, amused by her choice of words.

“Defiling? It’s not like I was so pure to begin with.”

The smirk she entertained touched his neck, drawing a growl from his chest.

“Dark and rich, like fine wine.”

He knew that sultry purr from experience, so he shifted under her, trying to push her off. There was not chance in Mustafar he’ll bed her _here_ of all places. At least not until he has some faint idea _why_ she was here. But she didn’t relent so easily, massaging the arms that were meant to push her off, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“Why are you here?”

“Many reasons. I’d rather show them than speak.”

Something was driving her, it was clear. She was always forceful in her own way, both of them were. Being similarly dominant personalities, it always took a little forceful approach to get the other onto the nearest flat surface, but it was rare one of them pushed _so intensely_. To lay it so thick. Testing his theory, he tried to deny consent. She ignored it, _insistent._ Now he was sure.

She has bad news and wanted to soften him up first.

He could’ve pushed her off any moment. They would fight and things might break, but she’d relent. But he didn’t. Because if she really brought bad news, he’d rather let her fuck the noise out of his head before that. After his argument with Kenobi (‘ _monster’),_ he’d take any distraction before all of this comes crashing down around him.

So when she moved down, he didn’t resist.

***

It was easy to convince Miraj that she didn’t see the _Dathomirian witch_ on the other side of the bed. The force practically hummed with mischief. The Queen dressed up in rather robotic motions then left to hold court as usual. Ventress watched her go with smug expression until the door closed. This time when she turned to him, Vader met her gaze with cold expectancy.

“Now speak. Why are you here?”

She frowned, taking the fruit bowl from beside the bed.

“There’s been a change of plans. Tyrannus wants the coup today or tomorrow.” More like Sidious does.

But it really didn’t matter which one of them did. The message was clear. They’ve had their fun on his expense and now his ‘exile’ was over. Maybe something came up. That means that he likely had less than a day to extract the remaining slaves. _Kriff._ And he was still laying around in bed.

“You have a plan?” She asked.

“I’ll cause a ruckus. Play my part, make a scene. Kenobi and Tano will take the slaves home.”

“That doesn’t need much preparation, now does it?”

“Not now, Ventress. I’m grateful for the head’s up, but you can only rip me to pieces _after_ we’re off planet. And if we’re at pieces, can you at least _try_ to avoid my arteries? If you want to kill me, just do it. I don’t want to spend half of the sex patching myself up.”

She chuckled, pushing herself off the bed as soon as he was dressed and just to mess with his patience, she tried to disrobe him again. She was a fast learner, this one. She took up patterns that only his people used, obviously paying attention to what he was doing.

“But blood looks good on you, love. Makes you looks vicious.”

“I don’t need blood to look vicious.”

“Not always, I admit. There are times when you look at me with that furious gaze.” Her hand slid down on his chest, but he was quick to grab her wrist. “ _Yes,_ that one. With a small tinge of yellow, you look positively _ravaging._ ”

A loud crash was audible from the doorway, prompting both of them to reach for a hidden weapon. But it was just Tano, with a pepper red face. The sound came from the plate she dropped, containing his breakfast. Shame. It looked good. Beside the Padawan, her Master was a little more composed, but the pinkness was unmistakable on his face as he was trying to hide his embarrassment behind a cough and failed spectacularly.

“Kriff.” Tano said, covering her eyes. “I didn’t need to see that.”

“Well look at that. Our resident Jedi pair finally show themselves. Did you enjoy the fun last night?”

“Is there a particular reason for your presence here, Ventress?”

Despite having more urgent problems, he flinched internally at the man’s voice. ‘ _Monster’._

“I’ve brought news.”

“And would you please share it with the rest of the group?”

“Tyrannus’ done playing.” Vader said cutting off the chase. “He’ll launch _his_ plan in action either today or tomorrow. Tell your men to be ready. There’s going to be a huge ruckus. You’ll need to extract as many slaves as possible. This might be the last time we can talk, so I’ll say it now. You take them and go, don’t even look back.”

He left Ventress and tried to pass through between them, but Tano stood in his way.

“Can we talk? Please? Just the three of us.”

She shot a meaningful look at Ventress. Through the bond, he could feel Kenobi prying at his presence and knew immediately what they wanted to discuss. No. Not now, maybe not ever. Ventress’ managed to get some pieces of him stick back together last night and he’d rather not shatter them again before this whole mess was over.

“No. There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

He rather felt then saw the older Jedi flinch.

“You’d want to hear this, I promise.”

“Not now, Tano.”

He pushed her out of his way with the Force and opened the door to leave.

“I’m sorry!” Kenobi’s words made him stop and close his eyes. Not. _Kriffin. Now._ “I’ve never meant… There’s no justification… I just want you to know that I didn’t… I don’t think that of you.”

 _‘But I do.’_ He kept his mouth shut. He already messed up once. This wasn’t a place for him to open up and start pouring his soul out. He wasn’t ready for that discussion. Maybe he never will be. That is selfish of him, that’s true. He already sold his soul to keep his team safe and there are _way worse_ people than Kenobi to show vulnerability to, but…

‘ _Don’t trust those who want to ‘help’ you, Anakin. You are a weapon._ Your team _is a weapon. You can take down armies and make empires crumble. There will always be people who’ll desire your power. There will be transparent ones and smart ones as well. Those who’ll try to sell themselves as a friend. Their ‘help’ is a leash. You cannot work with ‘generosity’. Find out what they want and only then ‘allow’ them to ‘help’. On your terms, while your back is protected.’_

“I know.” He said in the end, just to say something, to not wound the man further with rejecting his (maybe false, maybe _manipulative_ ) apology. He looked back at the Jedi and knew his thoughts were visible on his face from the way Kenobi’s expression fell. “I know.”

He left and didn’t look back.

***

‘ _You take them and go, don’t even look back.’_

Vader had said that. But he was unable to just _leave._ He couldn’t just go now, not when there was no telling when they will meet again. He wanted speak to the man, at least once. It wasn’t very Jedi of him to cling to his worries instead of letting them flow into the force and maybe that was the reason why he was making a mistake.

But he knew that look will forever haunt him if he didn't go to see him one last time.

“How dare you! I won't be threatened in my own palace!”

Miraj’s voice was intertwined with the unmistakable sound of her electro whip. He only managed to round the corner and look down when she lashed out towards the other Zygerrian, who jumped out of the way. He took a step back and pressed his back to the wall, stealing glances above his shoulder.

Vader was standing behind the queen and from this angle, he couldn’t see his face, but he felt the man’s presence. There was no conflict, only a dangerous kind of expectation. He had no intention of sparing her. If Vader has his way, the queen will die in the next few minutes.

“Enough of this circus!” The count’s voice was like thunder. “Vader, get rid of her at once!”

Silence then. The queen turned to her consort, now _former_ consort with dread and betrayal in her eyes. It was clear that from everyone in the room, the only person who frightened her was the man whose heart she tried to claim.

“My love?”

Obi-Wan felt the telltale shift of the force, his ears popped and picked up a distinctive hum while the hair stood up on the back of his neck. Just as he expected, he heard the sound of choking, but couldn’t bear to watch. Leaving someone like Miraj to certain death was not easy, but it was _easier_ than standing by as an innocent died. While she didn’t force herself on either of them, she was a slaver. And Obi-Wan saw it from the front row how she treated the people in her ‘possession’.

“Sorry, darling.” Vader said and the force stopped humming, yet she was still choking. ‘ _It’s not like you’ll not strange her with your own two hands once this is over.’_ Obi-Wan shut his eyes tight. “I guess you just didn’t meet the expectations.”

“I…always…liked… seeing… your… face… last…”

Then her life was out, like a blown out candle. The sound of a body dropping filled the throne room. He could hear Darts D’nar’s terrified mutters, accepting orders from Dooku about how to go on with the situation. He heard the old Sith send Vader out to spread the word about the Jedi killing the queen. But the only thing that shook him up from under the heavy blanket of the dark side that was pouring from the room was the hand that grabbed his shoulder plate, dragging him into the nearest room.

“It seems even the most intelligent can be taken over by a stroke of madness.” Ventress hissed, pushing and pulling him away through shallow corridors. “He told you to leave.”

“I need to speak with him.”

“Not now. Dooku would skin both of you if he finds you here.” She pushed him onto a balcony where a speeder was waiting. “Go. Leave and don’t look back.”

“Tell him-“

“No. I’m not your owl. You’ll tell him yourself the next time you see each other.”

 _‘Will we?’_ He thought with a dry expression and a sour taste in his mouth. He had never felt this far from Vader before, not even when the two of them were virtual strangers. Ironic that now that a closed bond was etched into both of their presence, he felt like they were light years away.

“He will come around.” She said, surprisingly gentle. “He’s wounded now and hates everything. It was the planet, not you. You’ll see.”

He sure hoped so.

Force, he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What... the fuck... was this?? 33 pages. 33 PAGES.  
> What even is this??? This is the most bipolar shit I've ever written. It's trying to be funny (and it fails) and then the angst comes out of nowehere and wHY ARE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS, NOT ONE OF YOUR IS EVER ALLOWED TO HAVE SEX AGAIN UNTIL YOU GO TO TERAPHY.  
> ....This quarantine is getting to me I swear.  
> I also cannot write Vaderkin and Obi-Wan 'bonding' without one of them sounding smitten. Fuck. Also, pretty sure the rating just went up. It did? It should, just to make it safe.  
> Also, still don't know if I should tag Miraj/Vader and Ventress/Vader. Maybe in the footnotes.  
> Alright, next time no more sexual tension. I'd rather write a crash landing ;)


	8. That one time when he hijacked a luxury ship and apparently senators are nosy, Kenobi is an idiot and Vader continues to take big sips of insanity

Obi-Wan didn’t really like politicians. There were a few exceptions whose company he enjoyed, but that was only because those people genuinely cared about doing good and helping the people who put them into their position of power. But the rest? Sharks, all of them. Especially those that came from wealthy families to begin with. They’d rip apart anyone who doesn’t meet their ‘standards’.

“I still think this was a bad idea.” Ahsoka muttered beside him, trying not to look uncomfortable in the ball gown she was required to wear. “So much senators in one place. It’s like we put up a sign that says: ‘Target us!’”

“And I still agree with you. But just as morale is important to us, so is glamour for these people. They want to feel powerful and unreachable.”

“This will bring woe on our heads.”

“What are you two whispering about?”

Senator Padmé Amidala was a welcome face in the crowd. Smiling, kind and _honest._ She helped both of them pick some clothes that wouldn’t stick out too much from the rest and even promised a rescue if a senator manages to corner them. Alongside her was Senator Bail Organa and Senator Mon Mothma, who were both good and respect worthy politicians, trying to do what’s best for their people.

“Pardon my words Senator, but I still stand by my belief about this trip. Even with the soldiers on board, we are heavy targets.”

“I agree.” Senator Mothma said, looking around. “But the Chancellor was adamant on preparing this trip. Refusing the invitation would only leave more place for the self-centered to work with.”

“I sincerely hope nothing will happen.” Senator Organa was looking at them with a sheepish expression. “I’d rather be home as fast as possible.”

Obi-Wan immediately saw that something was on the man’s mind. It seemed that this fact didn’t escape the other two senators either, because Padmé was quick to question the small grin on the man’s face. Meanwhile Ahsoka excused herself to go and visit the food tables where the appetizers were already served.

“Bail, are you trying to say…”

“Breha is pregnant.”

“That is wonderful news! Congratulations!”

Obi-Wan found himself smiling. In hard times as these, children were one of the few blessings that could permanently lift someone’s spirit. He knew that the senator and his wife have been trying for years now and sincerely hoped that the child will be born healthy. He offered a few words of congratulations, but couldn’t bring himself to continue listening to the conversation. He felt the force suddenly twist around the ship. A heavy and cold aura descended on the ball room while he was occupied with the good news.

He shot a nervous glance at the senators, then began to look for his Padawan, all the while trying to identify the source of this new darkness. Turns out, he didn’t need to bother. The source went out of his way to introduce himself.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!”

The whole room turned towards the stairs, trying to figure out who addressed everyone present. Exasperation and relief warred in Obi-Wan’s chest as he looked over the young man. He still looked worn down, but his colors were back and his posture was less rigid. Though that might be from the ruckus he’ll no doubt cause in a few moments.

Padmé gasped on his side.

“Allow me to introduce myself to those who might not recognize me. I am Darth Vader, thrilled to meet you all on this fine evening.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, the clones that were stationed at every entrance pointed their blasters at him, ready to shoot. Two of them climbed on each stairs leading to the landing thread where the dark lord stood, reciting the usual mantra about accepting his surrender. The blond flung both of them to either side of the room with two bored swipes of each hands, knocking them out, but leaving them relatively uninjured.

All of the guests gasped and drew back.

“Now that we have that unpleasant business out of the way, I’ve been bestowed with the honor of letting you know that every single person here is, in a certain sense, a hostage. And no, not even our greatly appreciated Jedi duo can change that fact, so you can stop right there Tano, I can sense you sneaking up on me.”

The prove his words, he snapped his fingers and pointed at the young Padawan without looking, who was trying to get to the staircase, her hidden light sabers already in her hands.

“You are all more than welcome to try and escape, though I’m obliged to tell you that while Lord Tyrannus forbade me from taking lives, he didn’t say anything about limbs.” He twirled the hilt of his saber between his gloved fingers for good measures. “Does anyone have any questions?”

Senator Mon Mothma was the first to speak.

“What are you hoping to achieve by this?”

The dark lord’s eyes landed on her. Obi-Wan saw that moment of consideration flash up in his gaze. He was no doubt contemplating just _how much_ information he wants to share. But then something else happened that threw him off guard. Vader’s eyes flickered to him for a second. Then came the lazy grin and the posture change and Obi-Wan suddenly _knew_.

“Senator I don’t _hope_ to achieve anything. I already did.”

He shot a glance towards his Padawan. Ahsoka was already fishing for his gaze with a frown on her face, solidifying his belief in the theory. Vader was a very self-aware (almost leaning into egoism) and manipulative person. He wasn’t above using psychological and dirty tricks to achieve the goal put before him.

He was like a Ringleader, perfectly capable of directing the attention of his ‘audience’. Sometimes he was the mastermind behind the schemes, only revealing himself in the very end, other times he was the distraction who made sure no one noticed the ‘real magician’ working their trick under the surface. That role always manifested itself along with a predatory grace that made the person watching both terrified and unwilling to look away.

Now his whole posture was screaming with it. The deep tone, the shifting way of his shoulders when he moved, the intense gaze, the fact that he sometimes flashed teeth. His whole presence was on point and carefully picked. Dark, all dark, barely a spot of skin. That means he might use his ‘illusions’ sometime during the whole ordeal.

Obi-Wan felt like a fool for not realizing it the second he showed up.

This was Darth _‘All Eyes on Me’_ Vader.

“How long are you planning on keeping us here?”

Padmé’s glare could burn through walls.

“As long as it takes. This is very easy. You’ll stay put and I won’t hurt anybody. I’m sure all of your needs will be met on a luxury cruiser like this one. I’m even willing to sing, if you feel bored.”

“We’ll pass.” Senator Amidala practically spat the words at him.

“Shame. I’ve been told I have a lovely singing voice. I wish you all a pleasant evening. I’ll be up in the Grand Balcony if anyone is interested in my company.”

Obi-Wan spared a glance at Ahsoka’s retreating back as she slipped away into a corridor amongst the shadows. No one was paying attention to her. No one could pay attention to anyone but the blond man who climbed the stairs and sat down in the box reserved for Chancellor Palpatine, laying down like a lazy cat, hungry gaze sweeping over all the guests.

Then their eyes met again and Obi-Wan felt a tug through the bond. Wonderful.

***

“Take a seat, Kenobi. We’ll be here for a while.”

“I’d rather stand, thank you. I believe the merry lot would get the wrong message if I sat down to a drink with you.”

The snort that bubbled up from his chest was very unbecoming of him.

“What? You want put a show on them? Challenge me to a duel of honor?”

The man’s smile twitched upwards. Good to know at least someone found this amusing.

“I’d rather not generate anymore tension.”

“Do as you wish then.”

It’s not like Vader was desperate to fight. After all, it’s been but six weeks ( _Six. Weeks! Six!_ ) since Zygerria. Sidious hell bent on keeping Vader out of the war for some reason, going as far as actually _locking him up._ If he ever sees another Sith Temple in the next decades, that’d still be too soon. It took him three weeks to get out of that _wretched place_ and three more to shake off the effects.

His body didn’t really suffer much even with the poison since the bastard left him enough water not to die of thirst and a few ration bars (that was almost a bigger offence than the imprisonment), but his Force presence? It was a mess. The dark side pulled him down way deeper than he ever was in that place and only his previous training made it possible to crawl back to the surface.

 _Didn’t we just agree to never_ ever _think about that place again?_

(Tell that to my nightmares)

So yeah, he had every right to feel frustrated and he was allowed to long for a stress relief. Sue him. Based on the look Kenobi was giving him, he didn’t just feel frustrated but also looked the part.

Joy.

“You keep looking at me like that. What did I do this time?”

He might as well get drunk to make these next hours more bearable. While Little Serpent sets up the stage for her magic show (Oh, how he _despised_ that smug little creature. She thought that being Sidious’ lapdog will save her. How _cute._ And _infuriating._ ), he was tasked with getting the attention of the ‘guests’ and keep it on himself.

He might manage to work that duel into the schedule somewhere.

“Where have you been?”

“Oh, here and there. Doing absolutely _nothing_ productive.”

Kenobi treated him with a disbelieving eyebrow. Well, fuck him.

“Listen, Vader.” The Jedi Master sighed. Oh? There might be something interesting after all. “The Jedi Council has reached an agreement. We wish to make a deal with you about freeing your team.”

_Abort! Abort!_

The glass shattered in his hand. His flesh hand.

(Kriff!)

_Forget the hand, panic about the idiocy!_

( _Kriff!_ )

Before he realized that he was in motion, he was in Kenobi’s face. The other didn’t back down but his force presence flared up in nervousness at the sudden movement. He didn’t even know what to do with the man, honestly. He raised both hands as if to grab him, but decided against it. It took a great deal of willpower to keep his voice low as he spoke.

“Never, e _ver,_ bring this up again. This _isn’t_ your business.”

“My apologies that _you_ being forced to work with _them_ is _my_ business because that makes _you_ my _enemy._ ” At least Kenobi had the decency to whisper. “And I’m sorry Vader, but this war cannot be won until you’re out of the picture. We cannot properly target the other Sith because that would mean that _you_ would be forced to take all of this _seriously_ and I _saw_ what you are capable of when you’re _serious_.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the Jedi beat him to it.

“I _know_ accepting help isn’t your way, so we’ll make a deal.” He still couldn’t help but shake his head with a disbelieving scoff at the man’s words. Kenobi didn’t let his chance swim by so easily. “Listen, even if ‘your leash gets passed on’, wouldn’t that be an _improvement_? Are the Jedi worse than _Sidious?”_

It took a great deal of effort to keep on whispering.

“I’m _tired_ of not having a say of what I want. It doesn’t matter who gives the order if I have no _choice_ but to follow it. Be honest Kenobi. Would the Jedi Order pass on a chance to command _Darth Vader_? To send me into battle against the Separatists? To flaunt me around like a _kriffin trophy?”_

_“Or course!”_

_“Liar!”_

All the glasses shattered around them, unable to endure the whiplash of his power. He barely managed to keep his voice down enough for the music to cover it. He already felt many eyes on them, on their altercation.

But kriff that all, because _how dare he?_ How dare he lie into his face like that? Life isn’t a kriffin fairy tale, it’s cruel, abusive and unpredictable. Even the Jedi with their ‘holier than thou’ attitude are more than capable to fail at being humane enough to not to _walk by_ the horrors of the universe while doing _nothing._ How dare he try to have him believe their lies when he was working with Tyrannus, a _former Jedi_ and witnessed it firsthand just _how far the mighty can fall_ if they sniff out a chance for power.

“Vader, I promise you, I _swear_ that we won’t use them against you. Please, just listen for a moment.”

“No, I’ve heard enough.”

“Alright, I’m going to be brutally honest with you. _I_ would want you to work for us, because frankly speaking, you’re a powerhouse. So _yes,_ I’d gladly take your help, but _not like that_ for Force’s sake! Do you really believe me to be that kind of person?”

‘ _Monster.’_

He was so glad that he already turned away from the man, so the Jedi cannot see the hurt flash over his face. He took a step towards the table, the glass shards creaking under his boots.

“I used to think we were starting to know each other.”

He no longer needed to repress his rage, the silence coming naturally. He felt the dark side grasp his heart with a firm hand and almost choked at the sensation. The push and pull of his mind was overwhelming. He was too tired for this conversation.

It seems Kenobi understood what he was referring to, because shame flooded his force presence.

“ _Anakin_ , I cannot tell you enough times that I didn’t mean-“

“Stop lying to yourself!” (And don’t call me that again, ever.) “You say you didn’t mean it, but Kenobi, you’re _terrified_ of me! You think I can’t feel it? Can’t sense it in your words? You all but confessed to not daring to fight Tyrannus because then you’ll have to face _me._ I _am_ a monster.”

He kind of hoped that would finally shut him up. If anything, the man’s determination solidified.

“No. No, that’s not true, you hear me? _You_ are _not_ a monster, you’re _forced_ to commit monstrous acts and it’s clear that all of it eating you up inside. And it won’t go away while you have to serve him! That’s why I want you to accept the deal. I want to _help.”_

“It isn’t your job to help me!”

“No. But I want to.”

“ _Why?”_

“Because you deserve a chance to be free!”

That’s it. He gave up. This guy was unsalvageable. Sinking onto the closest sofa, he buried his face in his hands. His heart was tearing itself to pieces over the whole situation. This poor _naive_ idiot was trying _so hard_ and the vicious truth was that the more words he said about Vader not being a monster, the more he felt like it. And the most fucked up part was that he relished in that pain. He deserved it. He was a ticking time bomb on the Jedi Order’s defenses.

Oh, how he longed to just shake the man, to tell him to run and never look back. To tell him about the danger that was lurking around, that danger that he _could pose_ if the old corpse orders him the ‘right’ way. But he can’t. Not until he has fully shaken off the effects of the Temple. Sidious was _under his skin_. He felt the hooks of his darkness latched onto his mind.

He rubbed his face, his eyes, already regretting the explosion of the glasses. He needed a drink, desperately. Dare he accept the deal? No, that wretched corpse will tear that information out of him. _This time_ he needs to reject it.

“Go away, Kenobi.”

The other’s desperation poisoned the force.

“Vader, please-“

“Just go. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

The door opened and he almost jumped out of his skin as the Sith Master’s presence yanked his chain in a mock greeting. Luckily to him, Kenobi didn’t notice the air getting stuck in his throat, because he turned to see who entered the Grand Balcony.

“Chancellor Palpatine.”

“Master Kenobi. It seems that you were faster than me. Did you manage to get into some sort of agreement?” He then turned towards Vader and he just couldn’t imagine _how_ the Jedi missed the malice in those eyes. “Lord Vader. Is there any particular reason for you and your army to take over this ship?”

The vicious smirk felt bitter on his lips, but at least Kenobi mistook his miserable state to the effect of their earlier conversation. He made a show of standing up and giving a deep bow to the ‘Leader of the Republic’.

_What an amusing contradiction._

“I am but a soldier, Chancellor. I do what my _Master_ commands. You should take up yours question with him.”

He felt and saw Kenobi bristle at that. The Sith Master tugged at his presence again, harder this time. Possibly the only reason why he wasn’t murdering Vader with his eyes was the fact that Kenobi looked towards their general direction.

“Is there a way to speak with the Count?”

“No, I believe there’s none. But we can try to negotiate if you wish, Chancellor. I _do_ have some modicum of free reign over this ship now and if you have a way to resolve this situation more beneficial for both parties I am willing to listen.”

“That is very generous of you.”

He inclined his head towards the old bastard and shot a glance at the Jedi.

“I believe we are done here, Master Kenobi. Depending on how the night turns out, we might speak again. I might even ask you to a dance, though the more _dangerous_ kind.”

Kenobi was quick to object.

“Lord Vader, I believe-“

“ _Leave.”_

(Flee, you fool!)

He did. Reluctantly and with a few unsure glances, the Jedi gave the ‘Chancellor’ a few words of reassurance (As if the old corpse needed reassuring that Vader wouldn’t rip out his throat. As if that wasn’t a fact that filled the Sith bastard _vicious glee_ ) and walked back towards the stairs that led down to the ball room. The old corpse’s facial expression changed as soon no one else was present to witness it. He sat down to his reserved chair, perching on his throne like a shriveled cat.

Vader felt his mouth twist into a disgusted frown, but did nothing. He didn’t move, didn’t try to sit down. He was just standing there, watching over the mass of people trying to ignore his presence while shooting nervous glances towards their direction.

“My patience is wearing thin, _Lord Vader._ You’ve been playing with that Jedi for far too long.” He wasn’t expected to answer, so he kept silent. “Kenobi is a valuable player, but don’t overestimate his importance. He can be replaced.”

 _‘Pieces on the board.’_ They were all playing a role and force forbid any of them swing too far from their designated purpose.

“You’ve cultivated their trust long enough. It’s time you finally prove that this whole debacle wasn’t a waste of time.”

“You sell them too short. The second I _ask_ for something, I reveal myself.”

(It’s not like I’d even try for _you._ )

“They are broken and wary. This war is taxing them in a way nothing did in the last centuries. Frustration and fear is rising through the galaxy and they feel the weakening of the light. They shy away from the darkness now more than ever.” He pitied the poor bastards for it.

“So you _do_ fail to show any benefits.” The old man hissed and Vader felt the static rise in the room. Although it instinctively ruffled his feathers, he knew Sidious would never do something like that in front of so many witnesses. “I warned you, _Lord Vader_ , about what will happen if you’re unable to produce benefits.”

_There are benefits, just not for you._

(That should be a first.)

“I am not as stupid as you want to sell me, old man.” He found himself sneering, while he slowly rounded behind the chair and headed for the railing. “I have my own sources and ways. I can see the web you’ve been weaving from my actions. All those propaganda on both sides.”

_Force, we need a drink._

(You can say that again.)

The Sith Master didn’t answer, but there was vicious amusement in his aura. That’s how Vader knew he was spot on. Sidious always took a perverse kind of pride in his ministrations and instead of being furious of being found out, he used it as a chance to preen like a peacock. What he was so proud of Vader would never know. It wasn’t hard to figure him out once you knew his face. He placed four paws into key positions and let them work around each other.

Tyrannus on the pure dark, front and center, representing the Separatists.

Ventress in the gentle dark, hiding in the shadows and gently swaying things towards the darkness.

Vader (ironically) in the gentle light, helping the Jedi from under a cloak of pure darkness.

Kenobi on the pure light, also front and center, representing the Republic.

Of course, _knowing_ about the strings on him didn’t mean that he could _fight_ them.

“It seems you still have ways to surprise me, _Lord Vader_. We already have what we want. Go and _enjoy_ the rest of the evening. I’m sure you’ll find something to amuse yourself with.”

Amuse, he says.

There was a few tense seconds while the force around them shimmered with anticipation. Vader seriously contemplated on taking his light saber and whacking him to pieces, but in the end there would be nothing to achieve. He might kill the old bastard, but his lackeys would kill his team as soon as the news reached them. Six different planets. He wasn’t even sure if he could reach _one_ in time.

So he bit down the curses, pushed down the boiling fury that pressured his chest and inclined his head in surrender. But the promise was still lingering around him, feeding on his frustration and white hot _rage_ , sewing it into the darker side of his presence.

_Soon._

***

“I want to gut her.”

“I know.”

“Slowly.”

“I know _._ ”

Ventress growled against the wound on his neck (when did she do that?) and her nails found their way down on his back, retreading the red marks of her own doing. Vader barely noticed the small tinge of pain, thoughts lingering elsewhere.

“You’re not even paying attention.” The witch accused.

“As arousing that gutting your enemies can be, I’d rather not think about _her_ while we’re at it.”

If Vader hated Little Serpent (she had a name but whatever. It wasn’t like she would be a long term nuisance in his life), Ventress all but _loathed_ the new addition to their hierarchy. When she dragged him into the room (Whatever this was. Was it a closet?), he almost teased her about missing him so much in those six weeks. But then the Dathomirian had all but ripped off his armor, telling him to shut the kriff up and do ‘his job’ (her words, not his).

So he did ‘his job’. And did it again. And again.

Meanwhile he realized that this wasn’t at all about her missing him (Which is inconsiderate and _insulting._ He was _insulted_.), but about her taking out her frustration on somebody without tearing off limbs. So that only left the sex. He wasn’t complaining! Far from it.

But a little ‘Hey, how have you been, I’ve heard you’ve been tortured for weeks’ would’ve felt, you know, nice. But beggars can’t be choosers and frankly, he was more than glad for her presence.

Now if only she would _stop talking about what’s-her-name._

“I can’t wait to skin her alive. I’ll spray the wound with salt water.”

What a nice image that is.

“You still haven’t told me _what_ she did.” It’s not like the mood wasn’t ruined already.

The witch let out a frustrated groan and settled on his chest (he was 99% sure she had cat genes and he’d fight _anyone_ on that) and seemingly settled to collect her thoughts. Vader let her decide when to start that particular conversation and decided to do damage control. First of all, _where_ were they? There was enough room to lay down and he _did_ feel some minor vibration from the engines. Maybe some kind of control room?

Second of all, _ow._

_It’s like she is unable to get aroused without causing bodily harm._

(I’m pretty sure the wound on my leg is still bleeding.)

 _I’m pretty sure_ all _of your wounds are still bleeding. Damn those nails._

(Cutting them off via light saber looks more and more appealing.)

 _You know the best part? You were projecting so hard that_ every _force sensitive on this ship was able to sense it. Which means Kenobi, Tano, who’s-she-again and –_

(Ew!)

“She is planning on seducing Kenobi.”

_Now hold on just a –_

“You’re telling me you pulled me into this god awful place to fuck because the Jedi you’ve been trying to sleep with will be targeted by another who’ll try to get in bed with him? _Wow,_ Ventress, thanks, this helps my self-esteem _so much_.”

“Shush you, you’ll always be my favorite.”

“That sounds like you don’t want to end up on the floor between two chairs.”

“Does it really matter?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. You’re worried about nothing anyway. Even if Kenobi _wasn’t_ the walking personification of the Jedi Code, he still has that duchess of his. Not to mention insert-name-here looks 20 and Kenobi is nearing 40. His ‘gentlemanly’ heart wouldn’t allow it. There is no way in Mustafar her plans are going to work out, but it’s good to know that she’ll be wasting her time with useless nonsense.”

“Well, if you put it that way.”

“Glad to help. Now let me up, I need to parade around the ball room, pretending to be interested.”

“Not yet, love. We shall do it properly this time.”

“I swear to the force Ventress if I see your nails _anywhere_ near my skin again.”

She laughed at him. She always laughs at him.

He was an idiot, really.

***

Tano was patching him up. Ahsoka _kriffin Tano_ was patching him up. What’s the world coming to? At least she was unapologetically unkind about it, not paying attention to his wincing and sometimes stage-whining in the process. It would be fair if he would’ve been the one to ask her to do this, but _no._ They all but ripped a bacta pact between themselves with their back and forth. (Give it here – No, I’ve got this – Vader don’t be stubborn – I’m sorry, is this _our_ bite wound? – Give. It. _Here you manchild._ )

So here they are, sulking in their own way in silence.

“Here, done.” She said it like it was his life sentence.

“Thanks.” He replied, just as not-really-passive-definitely-aggressive.

“Why do you two even do this?”

How do you explain to a 17 years old that sometimes there’s just too much _everything_? How do you tell them about your skin, your _whole_ existence being _so numb_ that neither pain nor pleasure manages to reach down far enough to touch your core, to _feel._ So you accept a Dathomirian witch into your bed who manages to give your both pain _and_ pleasure simultaneously. Who can fuck the silence (it’s always the _silence,_ never the _noise_ , he _longs_ for the noise) out of your head and fill it with screeching white noise.

“Have you met me?”

She put a hand on his shoulder and shame on him, but he honest to force _flinched._

“Doesn’t this count as self-harm? You just use another person to do it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a messy kink.”

_Way to talk to an underage girl, asshole._

(Innocence does not equal ignorance.)

“If it would be that, wouldn’t you get a hard on when injured in a fight?”

_You were saying?_

“Okay, we are _so not_ having this conversation. Thanks for patching me up even though it was unnecessary. I’m getting out of here before Kenobi gets wind of this conversation and buys an aquarium just so he can feed me to his fish.”

She just cleared her throat and pointed towards the door.

(Kriff my life…)

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Longer than you’d like, I’m sure.”

“Good to know. Excuse me while I go and bury myself somewhere.” He said, grabbing his tunic and cloak. He can dress on the corridor. That was a _favor_ to whomever was witnessing.

_More like a trauma, but details._

Of course Kenobi stood in his way. _Of course_ this stupidly hopeful bunch wouldn’t get off his ass about something like this so easily. How is this his life again? He feels like this question pops up too many times in his head nowadays. Is that healthy? Well, nothing in his life is healthy nowadays (except his diet. As long as he has hands, he’ll cook and if he loses them, he’ll learn to do it with his legs.), so that shouldn’t come as big of a shock.

He didn’t sigh. He _refused_ to do so.

“You won’t drop this, will you?”

“No, I won’t.” The bastard didn’t even sound smug, just hopeful and relieved.

He folded his arms before his chest.

“Not right now. I can’t, but soon.” When the Jedi opened his mouth to object, he cut him off ( _Rude_ ). “No, you don’t understand. Do you _feel_ my force presence right now? Yeah, that’s Sidious right there. I didn’t just take a vacation in the last six weeks.”

This time both of Jedi looked at him alarmed.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing irreversible. It won’t stuck, don’t worry, it just takes _a lot_ of meditation to get rid of it.”

(There’s no way in Mustafar I’m going to admit three weeks of misery. I don’t need no pity.)

“And what does this mean to you?” Tano’s voice was both wary and gentle.

How is that even possible?

“It means Sidious knows when I’m lying. So if he asks if I made a pack with the Jedi and I deny it, his immediate reaction will be ‘pull the other one’. So not yet.”

“What kind of pact exactly?”

Say whatever you want about Vader, but while it _seems_ that he has gotten softer, it’s actually quite the opposite. He was more ready to dice up anyone than ever. So when the new voice registered in his mind, he acted without thinking. And even a half-naked kind-of-Sith Lord can make an intimidating sight once he has you at the point of his saber, while his face goes stone cold and his eyes flash, though not yet in dark sider colors.

Vader had to hand it to the petite senator, she didn’t even flinch _once_ despite startling a jumpy mistakenly-called-Sith Lord after listening in on a conversation she had _no business_ in. The two Jedi were quick to get between them. Kenobi stood protectively in front of the pretty brunette and Tano tried to push down his light saber holding arm while pushed against his chest. He relented back a few steps and lowered the weapon some, but he didn’t deactivate it yet.

“Senator, you just got into a very dangerous conversation.” The older Jedi said, his gaze flickering between Vader and the woman, both of them refusing to break eye contact.

“And it seems that I was right to do so. Tell me it’s not true, Obi-Wan! You cannot make a deal with him! He’s trying to get you to his side!”

Vader found himself snorting at this internally. Yeah, _Kenobi_ was the one close to defecting.

_Show me where that’s written down._

“No, Padmé. I explain as soon as he _puts down the weapon_.”

(Of _course_. It’s _me_ who’s the problem. Not the Politian that decided to eavesdrop on the most sensitive conversation in my life and put _all of us_ in danger.)

_Speaking of politicians._

“As soon as the other two enter, lock the door behind themselves and you’ve made sure they aren’t giving out information. I’d rather not wait until the whole senate pours in on that door.”

Because yeah, it seems like just as curses, politicians come in threes. There must be a connection. Vader allowed himself to be coaxed back by the Padawan into a more comfortable distance. The two other senators entered as well, their force presence coated by embarrassment, mortification and fear. How _cute_. They actually doubted the Jedi’s loyalty.

“General Kenobi, explain yourself at once!” The other woman hissed, smelling treason.

The older Jedi shot him an apologetic look and began to relate their curious ‘tale’ of will-we-won’t-we turn out to be allies. With each word spoken the three politicians became more confused, sending him suspicious looks in a rapidly increasing frequency. He refused to lower his weapon, despite Tano’s softly spoken pleas.

“You are making them nervous.”

“And they put us in danger. They deserve it.”

Kenobi was reluctant to tell them the reason for him serving Sidious. He beat around the bush for a while, but the three sharks demanded a clear explanation. How _hypocritical_. The Jedi tried to explain to them that it wasn’t his place to tell, which only culminated in him being in the crossfire of three expectant gaze.

“You can tell them. They are good people, who just want to help.” Tano was still trying to placate him, no doubt nervous about Vader lashing out.

(A valid fear.)

“The best players are the ones you don’t even know are in the game.” He retorted, hard eyes unrelenting.

“Did you just accuse us being Separatists?” The little brunette ( _Amidala,_ his memory supplied, but he didn’t care) looked like her feathers have been ruffled. It was a familiar expression on an unfamiliar face. Vader hated how it made him soften up a little.

“No. I know every single hidden Separatist in the Republic. I accuse you of being self-serving serpents who abuse every opportunity to scramble towards the top.”

It’s not like he went out of his way to get to know the enemy politicians. His resources and moves had to be limited in order to keep his informants under Sidious’ radar and he was unable to afford a proper background and personality check on those he won’t be meeting on the battlefield. Now he cursed himself for it.

“I refuse to remain silent while I’m insulted like this!” It was Amidala again. “Don’t you dare sully my life’s work based on your personal misconceptions! I’ve risked my life time and time again to save my planet and I’ll not be lectured by someone who relishes in the idea of _mutilating people!”_

“And I refuse to let my fate rest on the shoulders of people who make a living with _lies!”_

“Alright, alright, calm down.”

He snarled at Kenobi.

“This is _your_ fault, _Jedi._ _I_ never asked for this! Your ‘help’ has given me nothing but trouble and now it has put all of us in danger!”

Enough was enough. He was trained to eliminate _every_ threat to his team, to his _family_. He was ready to raze the galaxy to the ground if needed. He liked Kenobi and Tano, he really did. But safety of his team came first and if that could be only achieved through murder…

He ignited his light saber once more, sinking into the stance of his Djem So.

Both of the Jedi took their sabers, but haven’t ignited them. Tano’s face was fluctuating between panic and frustration, while Kenobi was only heartbroken. The three politicians backed away instantly, trying to open the door which was sealed by Vader’s power.

“Vader, please. You are a good person, don’t do this.”

He might’ve been once. Not anymore. Now he was nothing more than a huge bleeding wound, a raw and exposed nerve. Once upon a time, he had visions about what he wanted to do with his life. Ideas about a home he wanted to build for his team. Now he was nothing but a singular purpose. There was no goal in his mind outside of saving his family. Nothing was unacceptable.

Nothing.

“I will not risk it, Kenobi. This is too important for me. I was ready to bend almost every situation to make sure that you and your Padawan lived. But after this I will not be able to count on your silence.” He felt the dark side coil around his pupils, coloring his irises to a blazing yellow. “Now you’re just a loose end.”

“Ahsoka, take them out of here!”

“The door won’t open!”

“Force, Vader, just calm down!”

Their blades clashed, cutting some medical equipment to pieces around them. The Jedi’s face was colored with grief as he took a few steps back after the initial contact. Then Kenobi deactivated his light saber. Sounds of objection screeched through the room.

“I won’t fight you.” The Jedi stated. “Not while you’re like this.”

_Poor, naive fool._

“Your tricks don’t work on me Jedi.”

“It’s not a trick. I won’t fight you. I saw your heart, I know you are good.”

(So be it.)

“Then you will die.”

He raised his saber, a huge part of him hoping that the foolish man would reignite his blade. That he would fight back, not making this an _execution_. But the idiot was just looking at him, a small smile on his face, entirely earnest. The red light of his light saber cast both of them into a bloody hue, the moment stretching between them into infinity.

“Master!”

“Obi-Wan!”

“It’s okay Anakin. _I trust you.”_

His blade was in the air. Ready to strike. His grip and resolve equally strong.

_Strike him down!_

He drew in a breath and it was even, strangely not reflecting the raging storm inside his mind.

_He is a threat to everything you love! Kill him!_

His gaze was locked in on the man’s blue eyes, unable to tear away.

_He is but a single man. A stranger. A nobody. He isn’t worth their lives. Just swing that blade, damn you! You’ve already killed so many, what do five more count? You should not hesitate to kill five thousand to keep them safe! Where is your sense of duty as a Commander?_

‘ _I trust you.’_

_Do it! There’s no time!_

_The walls moving again, he had heard their voice. The scorching sound of moving stone filled the narrow halls, so tight that a man of his posture was barely able to fit inside. The darkness enveloped everything around him and he didn’t see. He only heard the slow steps approaching. Slow steps. Not running, but simply walking._

_“Balaark! Run!”_

_His own screams echoed through the nauseatingly claustrophobic corridors, but the steps didn’t pick up the pace. He twisted in the bonds, cursing that_ monster _over and over again in his head for this. He really hoped that bastard would survive the Trial so he can be the one to_ bash his skull in. _But the steps were still low, the walls were still moving and he was running_ out of time.

_“Run, you idiot! You won’t get out in time!”_

_“Time is irrelevant.” Came the slow, dazed reply and Anakin felt like screaming. This was the poison. Balaark couldn’t think because he was_ poisoned _and the chains were still_ not budging. _He pleaded with him, over and over again, but his sworn brother’s steps never changed speed._

 _He felt the air rush out of the corridor and new that it’ll be closed in mere ten seconds, but he can still make it, there is hope, he can do this,_ come on.

_The chains held fast._

_“Balaark, please! There is no time!”_

_‘Time is not important. Only life is.’_

_The corridor’s walls crushed the body between with a sickening crunch._

… No.

Vader was sure he would’ve physically recoiled from the memory if he didn’t feel like all of his limbs were locked down. That single moment was still stretching between them, eternity in a second. He didn’t need all that time anymore. Time is not important.

A life can only be extinguished once. While there was life, time was irrelevant.

_You are weak, Skywalker. You are unworthy._

It felt like the whole room let out a collective breath of relief as he slowly lowered the blade and stepped away. He took deep and calming breaths, not even caring to show his back to the enemy. But Kenobi wasn’t his enemy now, was he? Not anymore. Not after that stupid _idiot_ put his life in his hands. Would any other Commander be in Vader’s staid, the man’s head would’ve been rolling by now, along with the rest of the rooms occupants.

Did that make his a failure?

_Yes._

Maybe.

Was that also the reason why he outlived the rest of the Seven?

(Also yes.)

He closed off his presence to the emotions in the room. He _should_ be interested in what they were feeling and saying in this critical moment. But he couldn’t drag himself to be. That sudden flashback all but sent him into sensory overload and the only thing he wanted to do is curl up in the nearest corner and sort himself out. Meditate for the next twenty hours.

This time when the foreign hand rested on his shoulder, he didn’t flinch. The Padawan walked around him, expression openly relieved and encouraging, if a little bit worrying.

“You’ve spared us.”

“I’ve been told that I’m prone to stupid decisions.”

She chuckled, a light sound that made something uncoil in his chest.

“So what happens now? Do we tell them?”

It was impossible to miss the four set out ears straining themselves for his answer. Well, kriff them. It’s not like Vader knew what he was doing either. He was, as always, swimming with the currents of the Force. That is what always separated him from other force sensitives. Jedi, Sith, even his own kind wanted to bend the force to their will, to ‘shape their own destiny’ to some extent.

_Such self-righteousness. Is it really destiny if you can change it?_

“Fairly, it’s none of their business.”

Five mouths opened to object, but he cut them off ( _rude.)_

“They need to swear that this doesn’t leave the room. If this information gets out I’ll lose the last thing keeping me sane and non-lethal and something tells me none of you want that.”

When he finally told them how Sidious managed to leash him, deadly silence descended on the group. Based on the politicians’ expression, they expected _anything but_ the fact that he was trying his force damned best to keep his family alive in a situation that could turn lethal in any second. Two of the senators accepted it with ease. Amidala even looked a little chastised.

_Who can blame her for thinking low of you? You aren’t exactly a model citizen._

(Don’t I know it?)

But the third one (Mon Mothma, his mind whispered and Vader was glad to see that his Commander senses were still ready to kick in. He started to doubt them a little when his resolve wavered at the moment of truth) wasn’t so easily convinced.

“Protecting you family. How convenient. How about the families _you_ are destroying?”

She was sharp. Vader liked her.

He let a lazy, dangerous grin stretch out on his face.

“Despite Master Kenobi’s insistence on the matter, I’m not a good person. I’ve never claimed to be. I was trained for assassinations, coups and war, for force’s sake. Still, few of you wants out of this war more than me. I don’t like being front and center. Leaves me exposed. Much preferred when I had the luxury of being under the radar and six people having my back.”

Kenobi was quick to chime in.

“He’s telling the truth, Senator Mothma. His force presence can’t lie.”

(I could, but that’s nothing you need to know.)

The three politicians sighed and eyes each other for a few moments. Then nodded and it was over. Just like that.

_Good riddance._

***

After the little ‘chat’ (horrible exposure to the element of uncertainty and surprise, he doesn’t recommend it to anyone), Vader returned to the Grand Balcony to observe the still lingering politicians. Skipping Sidious’ company for good, he settled for the landing thread where he made that little speech earlier.

Some twisted part of him relished in the way these serpents squirmed under in presence.

They’ve thought themselves top dogs. Invulnerable while they had their money. Now look at them. Vader took over their ship right under the fleet’s nose and kept them hostage just by being present. Because what good does money do when you cannot buy the blade that was meant for your neck?

He entertained a glass of colored sparkling water and pushed down a frown. He _never_ drinks on mission, though he desperately longed for it. The only thing that stilled his hand was the memory of Kent, threatening to rip off anyone’s nails if they dared to get intoxicated outside of their safe zones.

_He would’ve chopped off your whole hand if he saw you get piss drunk in some bar._

(Good for me that it was Kenobi there and not him then.)

While his body remained still, his mind lingered on his situation. More and more people are getting into his little secret and now he knew why The Mistress always told them that the only secret safe is the one that’s never uttered. He’ll need to strike that deal with the Jedi soon and act fast. Sooner or later this little alliance will get into Sidious’ ear and if he isn’t fast enough…

The Commander in his head chastised him for being this reckless. But he didn’t listen to that voice for two reasons.

One. He missed his team. _Dear force_ , he missed them so much. The silence ate his mind away from the inside. When the Hive was finally formed in their heads, it was meant to last forever. To always hear their voice, because no team scatters from each other far enough to lose their connection to the Commander. They go everywhere together, do everything together. Now he knew all too well while so many Commanders offed themselves instead of taking on new teams.

The silence was _maddening._ A sense of void in his mind and soul. Ironically, the dark side was the one thing that kept him alive and moderately sane. That, and the knowledge that he can get them back, inside his head and beside him, he just needs to free them first.

Two. He dreaded his own future, should he not take action. The status quo between him, Tyrannus and Sidious was unshakable and rigid for years now. Nothing was able to unbalance it. That means that his position won’t change, not now, not in twenty years. He might be their lap dog for his whole life. He won’t gain agency. He cannot clap back at them because the leverage they have over him was too important for him to risk a gamble.

And he knew that as the time passes, the Sith are going to restrict him more and more, slowly easing him into resignation. Pushing him to the edge until he either surrenders or lashes out. With every passing day, he loses ground. Soon, he’ll have nowhere to move on the board. _Then_ there can be nothing bot resignation, either to death or to servitude.

And he knew he could never knowingly cause his family’s demise.

A man before him just burst out in tears. Apparently, he dozed off too much, let his gaze linger on someone for far too long and the idiot’s imagination did the rest of the work. He averted his eyes from the pathetic sight and looked over the quests once more.

The grin was involuntary.

_I spy with my little eye…_

(Is that…)

_Yep!_

(With?)

_Yes, yes it is!_

(And is she really?)

_I know! Tune in with the force! Tune in with the force! I want to hear what they are saying!_

(Aren’t you technically me? Does that mean that _I_ want to listen in?)

_Details, now quick! I want to see the moment when she cracks!_

Not too far from where he was standing, a pair was dancing to the slow tune of the music. It seems the little serpent finally slid out of her hole and decided to make her move. In his opinion, she overdid it with the ‘innocent’ looking gown and the doe eyes. She _grossly_ underestimated her prey if she thought _Kenobi_ of all people would fall for that.

_“I’m sure you can handle any situation, Master Kenobi.”_

_HAH!_

(Kriff, I was drinking!)

 _GET IT?_ Any _situation._

(Subtlety, what’s that?)

The laugh in his chest put so much pressure in him, he was sure not even the glass could hide his grin. He didn’t even dare to raise it at this point, fearing that Kenobi’s answer might make him spit it all over these rick peacocks. He saw the Jedi Master smile.

_“You are too kind, my lady. Also, I’d rather not see the situation escalate that far.”_

_“I fully agree, but still have to wonder. Wouldn’t it solve the problem to engage and be done with it?”_

_“Fighting is always a last resort. Lord Vader is a formidable opponent and I’d rather not tempt fate and put everyone here in danger.”_

_“But you’ve already bested him once.”_

_“And no one did so since, which leads me to believe that my victory that time had more to do with whatever was going on behind the curtains in Lord Vader’s life when we fought than with my light saber skills.”_

_“You are too modest, Master Kenobi!”_

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with fake sparks.

_This is a riot! He keeps dodging her compliments!_

(And with grace at that. Makes me wonder how many times did he have to do this?)

 _Well, he_ is _the face of the Jedi Order. He’s likely obliged to partake in many events like this._

(I don’t envy the poor bastard.)

“ _Vader, out ETA is in ten minutes.”_ The voice of Ventress purred into his ear and he sighed.

(This is why we can’t have nice things.)

“I’ll meet you there in five.”

He tugged at the strange bond between him and Kenobi. The Jedi was more tactful than showing his reaction outwards, but he felt his whole presence shift into attentiveness. Communicating through a loose, not to mention only half-formed and half- _wrong_ (only his light side kept it even moderately functional) bond like this was a pain and a half. He tried his best to tell the Jedi three things.

‘I’ve to go.’

‘Cover me if needed.’

‘See you next time.’

Once he got a mix of ‘go ahead-see you soon-take care’ as confirmation, he turned to leave. His bond with Ventress purred with anticipation so he already knew what they are going to do as soon as they’ve got out of here. Sidious was strangely silent. Not even a last minute warning towards him. Maybe he was otherwise occupied.

_Small mercies._

(Indeed.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what the hell is with this chapter. I wanted to write a crash landing then got this vague idea about Vader messing with the Coruscant elite and then this thing just came to life.  
> I also have no idea why this story has a plot. This is CRACK. This is why we can't have nive things.  
> I'm going back to 5 page chapters and humor as coping mechanism.  
> My apologies.


	9. Obi-Wan's going to get grey hair and it's already too late to distance himself

Obi-Wan felt faint. A strange kind of cold washed over his body, locking it in place. He was trembling and no doubt paler than healthy, but there was no one in the small cockpit beside him to acknowledge that. His thoughts were running circles around those words over and over again, never quite managing to make contact. There was no way he heard it right.

‘Vader down’

He heard Ahsoka screaming for contact on the comms, demanding someone to check it out, to call it. The battle fell into chaos around them, separatists commands contradicting each other, half of the republic cheering, the other letting out curses. It was over, orders of retreat and regrouping were shouted on every channel.

Before he knew, he turned the ship towards the planet. He was close to the surface anyway. His body and some part of his mind must’ve been on autopilot, because he heard his own voice passing command to Ahsoka, saying that he’ll go and call it.

The minutes were passing funny. He was landing beside the crash site in one second, already out of the cockpit, rushing towards the dark command ship in the next. It wasn’t the _Specter,_ Vader’s signature model. The one every sentient in the galaxy knew from a single glance. Maybe he was upgrading it when the Republic hit on their fleet and had to resort to another model.

Then he was cutting the wreck into pieces with his light saber, one part careful not to injure the man inside, another part desperate to get to him. He felt the other’s presence get weaker through the force, his power dwindling in a fast and steady way.

‘ _He isn’t dead yet. He lives, you just need to get to him.’_

Was his mantra and he slashed at the metal over and over again.

‘ _Come on. Come on!’_

He finally reached the cockpit. He saw blood first. Blood and that signature black fabric. Sparks were flying everywhere and the ship was groaning under his weight. It was already unsteady when he found it, too close to the cliffside to his liking.

Anyone else would be dead by now. But of course this kriffin impossible man wouldn’t give his life easily.

‘ _He’s right there, come on!’_

Finally he managed to raise the last panel out of his way. Glass was scattered everywhere, but there was less blood that he previously feared. The majority of it came from the man’s right leg that was ( _Thank the Force_ ) not crushed, despite the state of the cruiser.

He might’ve called his name out loud after finally reaching him, or maybe he only said it through the force. It didn’t matter. There was no answer. Not even a twitch. The only thing that gave him hope was the other’s force presence, weakening, but still powerful enough to pull through.

Three minutes seemed like an eternity, but finally he managed to carefully cut the debris away around the man and pull him out of the pilot seat. For a moment, Obi-Wan allowed himself to get some air into his lungs and calm his thoughts. It was easier now, when he was sitting in a safer side of the cockpit, his injured maybe-but-oh-who-cares-by-now-anyway-ally in his arms, not conscious, but _alive._

“You and Ahsoka will be the reason for my early greying.” He muttered into the man’s shoulder.

There was no answer of course. He didn’t expect any. The maybe-dark lord had a nasty looking head wound on his forehead. Obi-Wan winced at the sight. Head wounds bled a lot, even when they weren’t too serious, but he was more worried about the blunt force trauma the impact caused.

Obi-Wan gave himself about half a minute to calm down and get his legs under him before he started to gather the unconscious dark sider into his arms and take him outside. He was glad for that decision, because Vader was _heavy._ Six feet pure muscle and some sort of hard armor felt like a ton in his arms, especially since the man cannot cooperate with him while he wasn’t awake.

Although it’s not like Vader would allow anyone to carry him if he _was_ awake. Even if his legs would be chopped off, the stubborn ass would rather crawl than admit weakness.

Obi-Wan was suddenly glad that he was out cold.

By the time he maneuvered out of the shipwreck, the last remnants of the battle above them calmed down. Both sides retreating into their respective corners to lick their wounds. A ship was already standing beside his and another was landing in just that moment. Ahsoka’s ship. The first one belonged to Kix and his small medic team.

“General.” The clones greeted him their eyes flickering down to the bleeding kind-of-Sith in his arms.

“He has a nasty head wound and leg injury.”

“We’ll take care of him.”

He had no doubt about that. The soldiers of the 501st and the 212th looked at the dark sider in a sort of silent reverence. There were countless occasions when Vader earned their respect. Obi-Wan almost constantly got confidential reports about Vader leaving this or that group alone without engaging in a fight. Sometimes he even gave directions and tips. He can safely leave the man to their care.

“Damage report.” Was the first thing he asked for as soon as Ahsoka stood beside him.

“Classic hit and run. We barely lost any troops. Especially not after they went crazy with Vader down. They might come looking for him. Or for the body.” That was the bluntest ‘hidden’ suggestion he had ever heard.

“When?” He wouldn’t want to say anything before Kix was done with the examination.

“We probably have a few hours. They might not even show up. You weren’t exactly subtle when you came after him, Master.”

He refused to feel chastised by that comment. It’s not like they were defending a planet or anything like that. Just a classic dogfight with little stakes. The main reason he allowed it was because it would raise the morale. He also hoped he could fly a few rounds with the dark sider. Maybe spar a little, if it comes down to it.

He suppressed a sigh, stealing a glance at the medical ship. If only he’d known it would go sideways like this…

They made an army and damage inspection while they were waiting for the report on the man’s injuries. It took the medical team about thirty minutes to patch him up. The thirty-fifth minute found Obi-Wan standing beside the narrow stretcher, listening to the injury list. Head trauma, a cut on his leg, a dislocated shoulder and ton of bruises.

“He can be up in any minute, General.”

He already was, his force presence aware and attentive, but chose to hide that fact from the medic. Obi-Wan lowered the shields he usually kept over their bond and shuddered as the gigantic grey presence washed over him. He let the dark sider pick his brain for any information he might need and then felt the other retreat once satisfied.

“Thank you Kix. Is he safe to move?”

Amusement rolled over the injured man.

“Are you planning on taking him prisoner, sir?”

“I doubt we could hold him for long.”

“ _You can’t.”_ Came the low whisper right into his mind and Obi-Wan was sure there was a tinge of amusement on the other’s face, but the shadow passed as quick as it came.

“Should we bother to cuff him then?”

“You can. Image is important. We don’t know how many of us are really on board with this fragile alliance. Bring him to the ship and put him into any cell you want. I’m sure he can find his way past our tripled defenses.”

“At once, sir.”

_“You are not subtle, Kenobi. What did I do to earn such ire?”_

_“You almost made me go grey early.”_

_“Alas, even the iron clad resolve of the Jedi could waver in the face of pettiness.”_

_“You misunderstand, Lord Vader. This is me being vengeful.”_

_“My apologies! You have to forgive me, I have a head trauma.”_

Obi-Wan snorted and shook his head. Why did he worry about this idiot anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel liek this is a gross underuse of a strong concept like 'Vader down' but I WON'T hop on the angst train again, so we're stuck with the idea and nothing more.  
> My apologies, once more.


	10. We roll around in the dirt, in the dirt

Ever since Zygerria, Ahsoka understood Vader’s deep rooted hatred for slavers.

That is why she wasn’t really happy when the Council sent them on Outer Rim slaver planet on mission. Things escalated quickly and before she knew it, they were in chains and waiting their rounds in a gladiator arena. And something told her there was no amused kind-of-Sith Lord amongst the giant audience.

Joy.

She was the first to be lead out, a huge, brutish native yanking her chains with two hands, holding a weapon with the other two. He was at least thrice her size. The force inhibitor on her neck reduced her chances, but they still chained her after she almost managed to get out of her cell.

The arena was _huge._ Two hundred people would be able to fit and fight in there comfortably. Around her the huge coliseum was packed to the brim with cheering natives. Barbarians. Finding amusement in slaves mutilating and killing each other. She turned up her nose, not willing to cower before any of them. She also took note of the various weapons in the middle of the arena.

Ten weapons. Sixteen gates. Bastards.

One by one, new slaves were lead into the arena. Some of them just pushed inside, others in cuffs like her. One male was lead on by two guards. He yanked at the chains, but clearly for show, since he basked in the attention of the crowd.

Then Obi-Wan showed up from behind one gate. He too was lead along by two guards, even his legs bound. The spotted each other almost immediately. The chain that bound her hands together was fastened to a metal claps and then she was left alone. Her Master was stripped from the majority of his bonds as well, the only chain remaining was the one that held his hands, fastened to a similar clasp. That was the case with every slave as one by one they were lead out of their cages.

“Are you alright?” Her Master asked while they were checking each other for injuries.

“Yeah, nothing serious. What was that with the extra chains?”

“I managed to get out once. I was in the middle of trying to find you when they’ve caught me again.”

So they were worried about him. Smart.

Then another familiar face appeared from behind a gate. She was bound at her arms, ankles and even had a metal collar around her neck. Four guards led her towards the middle where the other participants waited along with the weapons. She snarled at native when he tried to get off the chains around her neck.

Ahsoka groaned. She was the last person she wished to see now.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my two favorite Jedi?”

“Ventress.”

“In bondage again? Do you wish to tell me something, Kenobi? If you like it, you can join me and Vader sometime. I’m sure he’d go along with only mind complaining.”

Pervert.

“Speaking of him, can we count on a rescue mission?”

Her Master’s question prompted the witch to throw her head back and laugh. _Laugh._ Like, her whole body was rocking with it. Ahsoka had a feeling thing’s weren’t as simple as Vader possibly perving on them from the audience, nor will he barge in with an army of droids.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Never mind, I understand now.”

Ahsoka followed her Master’s gaze and… oh. So that’s what she meant.

She had a feeling that they never really knew how dangerous Darth Vader can be, based on the picture before her. _Twelve_ guards surrounded the kind-of-Sith Lord, all of them holding a heavy chain that connected to his bonds either behind him or on his neck. Both of his arms were forced behind him, wrists bound to his elbows so he had no way to reach the clasps. They stripped him to his pants only, likely trying to remove anything he can use as a weapon. But that wasn’t even the most shocking part.

They put a kriffin _muzzle_ on him.

All of his captors looked fidgety as they pulled him towards the middle of the arena. From up close, Ahsoka saw the force inhibitor collar _and_ cuffs on each wrist. He was the last one to be pulled in. The Sith remained still as the majority of the bonds were taken off, but his eyes promised death to the first person he can get his hands on.

“What did he do to earn that?” She found herself asking.

The witch was eyeing him like a piece of meat as she spoke.

“They’ve got tired of him escaping after the twentieth time. He massacred at least two hundred guars by the time they managed to subdue him for good.”

 _Twenty_ times _. Two hundred guards._ Force help them.

“But why the muzzle?”

“Once he was out of weapons, he was forced to make do.”

Darth Vader can kill with his teeth.

Cool. Cool.

Ahsoka watched at the dark lord snapped at one of the guards and the poor guy almost fainted right then and there. Vader acknowledged Ahsoka and Obi-Wan with a single glance, but seemed too pissed to actually get into a conversation. Then the Ringleader announced the beginning of the match and at once, all of bonds fell.

She barely saw him move. One second he stood at the spot where they’ve chained him, the next he was armed with a glaive. She watched him spin it around a few times, positively scaring the crap out of the other slaves. Almost all of them scrambled away towards the edge of the arena. The only ones left in the middle were Ahsoka and her Master, along with Ventress and that guy she supposed was the champion.

Aforementioned champion grabbed a giant war axe, ready to take challengers.

That was a mistake.

Though Vader was fully human, there was beastlike instinct about him. He always strolled into places like he owned them and didn’t initiate conflict until the moment someone stood up to him. He always took it a challenge and gave exactly _one_ chance for the person either explain or to back down. If they chose not to, Vader subjugated them the hard way.

This happened now as well. Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and Ventress did not arm themselves. Even the witch, clearly more aroused than anything, seemed to be nervous about the tempestuous fury of the dark sider. So the champion was the only one who stepped up as a challenger.

He was the first to attack, but that was the only chance he got. Apparently Vader was masterful with any weapon you’ve put into his hand, because he wielded that blade like it was part of him. He dodged the initial attack to the side, took a few graceful steps around the man while his weapon became a blur, and finished with a dispassionate expression.

The champion and his head fell on the ground on two separate places.

Shocked silence stretched out for a few seconds before the roaring cheers returned. Vader obviously took no pride in them. His gaze swept over the three before him and Ahsoka almost flinched away from that look. Even collared and suppressed, the dark side poisoned the man’s gaze.

She shared a glance with her Master.

Then both of them ducked their head.

***

It’s been a _long_ time since Vader was _this_ furious. They collared him. They. _Collared. Him._ He’s been only collared exactly _once_ before and he ripped that person apart as soon as he was free. Even before the rush of battle lust, he felt the darkness _rebel_ and _thrash_ and _roar_ around him, demanding blood and suffering.

_Rip them to shreds, cut off their limbs, tear down their skins, makethempay –_

(That’s a good start.)

_Kill each and every one, the guards, the masters, the audience, killkillkill._

(No one puts a collar on Vad- _Anakin._ )

_No one._

As soon as he got the champion out of the way (fool, what a fool, where were your _instincts_ –) and saw the three force users bow their head in submission, he turned the glaive around and sunk it into the dirt. He grabbed at the collar, trying to get the suffocating feeling _off._ Brute force wasn’t working, that would’ve been unreasonable anyway, but he was beyond reason momentarily.

 _Use the force, worm your way into the circuits, push push push until it_ shatters into pieces –

“Vader, there’s more coming.”

“You can get that off later, darling. First we need to get rid of that.”

He looked up and saw scales, a long tail, a giant mouth (Greater Krayt Dragon, reptile, carnivorous, native on Tatooine, apex predator, acidic venom, aim for the–), the glaive was back in his hand and his feet shot out towards the giant reptile. Instinct ruled his movements, mind taking a backseat. (The caves have been dark, the nests have been flooded, a pack, they hunt in _packs–_ )

He managed to push down the memory around the same time the beast screeched its last with him sinking the blade into the skull till the hilt. The gigantic creature fell down and he jumped off with a roll to avoid the landing shock.

 _Kill, kill again, kill them all, who dares to challenge a_ Commander–

Despite the chanting in his head, he took low and even breaths, trying to gain back his rational thinking. He was out of chains at the moment, but now that he’d killed their pet they might come to subjugate him again ( _Let them come, just let them try._ ) and he needed to get off the inhibitors before that.

More deep breaths.

He was trying to calm down, but the dark rush made it nigh impossible.

_Kill, there’s still fight around you, there’s more to kill, kill, kill–_

There was a fight indeed. He heard pained grunts and the sound of electro whips, but none touched him yet, despite being close, _so close_ and he saw three backs around him, fighting, _protecting–_

 _Protecting their Commander, yours, they are_ yours, move –

Move he did. He caught the whip meant for the small girl (Melinoe?) with his right hand ( _burns, it burns more than it should, why, Why–)_ and not minding the shocks that wrecked his body he pulled the whip out of the enemy’s hand. Grabbing the hilt with the other he began to fight back, lashing out at the attackers.

_Why, why, can’t you feel their presence, why, why, why –_

(They are in force inhibitors)

_Take them off!_

He dropped the whip and stepped to the small figure, grabbing the collar around her neck with both hands, gathering what semblance of power he can summon and sank it into the cracks just like he was taught, pushing and pulling until it groaned and slowly gave. He didn’t mind the whips coiled around him (four, five, six, seve–), the collar gave and she was free.

Just then the pain put him on his knees, but it was fine, she was free, she can free the rest –

…

She didn’t. What’s wrong? Why doesn’t she do as she was trained? Is she injured? No, no, she was fine, in pain but conscious and functional, why wasn’t she acting on training, they are in _danger –_

New flashes of pain assaulted him from every side. He looked up at her, not understanding why, why…

Darkness took him.

***

Ahsoka was sitting in the dark and tried to meditate. It was hard. No, it was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Vader, brought down to his knees by _nine electro whips_ latched into him. Vader, with her broken inhibitor collar still in his hand ( _how_ did he even do that, cut off from the force), _kneeling._ Vader _never_ knelt. But that wasn’t even the part that left her restless.

It was his eyes. Blue, ever so clear blue, not even a hint of the dark side in them. The _emotion._ He seemed so lost, so utterly confused. He looked up at her and she had a feeling that he saw someone else, _expected_ someone else to _do something, to help him_ , not just watch as he was beaten until he was out from the pain.

The whole fight he looked out of it. Something about the situation seriously ticked him off and he went on autopilot. Killed the one who attacked him, spared those who held no weapons. He didn’t do anything until they drew his attention to the _Greater Krayt Dragon_ that was released on the slaves after they were unwilling to fight each other or force forbid Vader.

And then he fell the beast in mere minutes. Ahsoka will never forget the way he moved, the speed and agility, the _practice_. Either Vader spent his free time battling giant reptiles from Tatooine (or something similar) or he was officially the most dangerous person in the universe, since he beat an apex predator he just met _while subdued_ _in the force._

He seemingly checked out again after that, did not react to the guards surrounding them and this time, not even their voices reached him in his daze.

The he grabbed that whip meant for her, scattered her assaulters before suddenly latching onto her collar. He actually managed to _get it off_. He was unable to protect himself while he did that. Ahsoka couldn’t imagine how someone managed to keep standing after _nine electro whips_ latched themselves onto him, but he did until the collar was off. She couldn’t imagine how he could keep his head clear, concentration fixed while that was happening.

It was all for nothing in the end. By the time Vader was done, her Master and Ventress were down and she had to follow them soon after. She came to in this cell that was nothing like her previous one.

First of all, it looked nicer. Cleaner and even a little furnished, though not overly decorated. Much bigger as well. The only drawback was that there were no doors or windows. _At all_. Wherever the exit was, it closed perfectly and they had no way to find it.

Yes, _they._ Because this time, all four of them were housed in the same room. They were still in inhibitor collars, but at least they weren’t alone now. They’ve tried every method to get them off, but these ones were so much more durable, the same type Vader was wearing in the arena.

Speaking of the dark lord, he was the only one who didn’t wake up just yet. Or more like, he woke up but didn’t come to consciousness, since there was a _heavy_ dose of drugs in his system. Their captors clearly tried their best to keep him down, though if that was really their objective, it was a foolish decision to give them the same cell.

“Will he wake up?” Her Master asked the witch, who was doing some weird stuff to the unconscious man.

It looked like the combination of a massage and some nerve healing techniques. Ventress claimed that this might get the drugs out of his system faster, but at least it can chase away the lingering pain of the whips.

Ahsoka tried to not look at the man’s chest, at his _scars_ , settling with the mantra of ‘at least he’s not dead’ in her head. She couldn’t help it. This idiot someone managed to make her worry about him and there were few things more infuriating than that.

“Of course he will, we’ll just wish he didn’t. As long as this thing is on him, he will be too much on the edge to be harmless.” She fingered the collar around his neck. “I’d rather not have him lash out at me.”

“Right. Do you know why the collar ticks him off so much?”

The witch shrugged.

“The same reason anything related to slavery ticks him off. The same reason he _loathes_ to be restricted.” Ahsoka felt a nasty thought form in her mind. Based on her Master’s expression, she wasn’t the only one. Ventress sighed and turned the man’s head to the side, revealing a small scar under his right ear. “He used to be a slave, Kenobi.”

Used to. In some way he still is. The thought made her nauseous.

“He told you this?” She found herself asking.

The Dathomirian chuckled as her fingers sank into the kind-of-Sith’s hair behind his ear. Ahsoka frowned at the gesture. It didn’t sit well with her at all, since the man wasn’t awake to consent to such an intimate touch. She already knew that these two hurt each other when they… _then_ , but this was different.

“He’d sooner bit his tongue off. But I’m perceptive. I know more than he intended to let me in on.”

Vader chose that moment to stir, prompting all three of them to shut up and wait with bated breath. The last time he woke up, he didn’t even manage to speak more than a few words in a language none of them understood, but recognized as huttese. Now the Sith groaned and blinked a few times, but his gaze didn’t clear. Ahsoka bit down a curse. Just _how much_ did those filthy slavers give him?

“Are you with us, love?” Ventress asked, gently slapping him a few times on the cheek.

“… Where?”

“Still on K’Maren. Do you remember?”

“… Who… my team… where are they?”

Ahsoka bit her lip. Ventress seemed unfazed the not-Sith’s confusion.

“They aren’t here, love. They haven’t been here for years now. You’re serving Lord Sidious.”

Vader shook his head, in denial or in confusion, it wasn’t clear.

“That’s… no, that’s… I’ve just fought with them… why can’t I feel them?”

Realization hit her at once. Her Master told her about the rush of the dark side, how it muddies up the reason and blurs time and thoughts together. Vader was quite distressed in the arena, heavily under the influence of the dark even with the force suppressors. He must’ve mistaken them for his team. Maybe that’s why he looked up at her like that. Maybe he expected his family to know what to do and help him.

Since apparently neither her nor her Master found the right words, Ventress went on.

“You can’t feel anything now, dear. You’ve been drugged. You’d better go back to sleep.”

But Vader was having none of it. He was already trying to get up on his elbows (of course he did, he was the most stubborn creature in the whole universe) but as soon as he moved, he must’ve noticed the collar shifting on his neck, because he stilled at once. His right hand flew up at the collar.

“What have you… who are you… where is my team?”

“See, this is why you better go back to sleep.” Ventress said in a _not at all_ apologetic tone.

Before either of them could stop her, she slid behind him and with a sure hand cowered both his mouth and nose, cutting off his air supply. The dark lord choked, grunted and thrashed in her hold. No use. Her hands were firm and he was weak.

“What the kriff are you doing?” Ahsoka exclaimed.

She found that she couldn’t keep her eyes off of the struggling not-Sith, who was trying to pry the witch’s fingers off his face to no avail.

“Ventress, let him go!” Her Master’s tone was furious, his posture rigid and ready to lash out and pry the man from her grip.

The witch only shook her head, adjusting her hold so she can keep it up even if both of them launched at her. Ahsoka winced when Vader’s thrashing began to die down and soon after that he lost consciousness. Ventress allowed him to breathe then, sinking her fingers into his hair and caressing his head.

“Why is it that you always need babysitting?”

Enough was _enough._

“Excuse _you!_ He was confused and worried and you _choked him_.”

“He was distressed and getting worked up. He might’ve injured himself or us in that state. He won’t thank me later, but he’ll be grateful. _You_ should be grateful.”

“Master!” She looked at him for help.

“While I understand you reasoning Ventress, I’d rather have you use a less brutal way the next time you decide to ‘help’ him.”

The witch grinned.

“I make no promises.”

***

Vader woke up to a _ton_ of things that needed to be addressed.

First of all, he was still in a _collar._ That was _unacceptable._ The drugs in his system were almost holding him in tighter bonds than the collar and the cuffs. But he was lucid enough to do it again. It’s not the first time he had to do this, it was part of his training, part of the reason he _passed_.

He just needed to… sit down a little. And find his center. Yeah.

 _That whiplash in the arena was_ nasty.

(Waking up to the memory was even nastier)

_Are you sure that wasn’t from the choking?_

(Trust me, we’ll come back to the choking. Ventress will get what’s coming for her.)

“Are you aware that you’re speaking out loud?”

“I am now.”

He sent a glance towards the Padawan sitting beside him. Her Master and his mistress (HAH!) were in the other corner of the room, trying to cook up an escape route. What a waste of time. He already had the whole place mapped out in his head and vowed to never underestimate these brutes again.

_Twenty. Times. You’re getting rusty._

(I keep forgetting that I can only plan of one person, cut me some slack.)

_You had almost three years to get used to it._

(I’ll _never_ get used to it.)

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Alright.”

…

 _Silence_ is the bane of sentient kind _._ Trying to get his mind off of the awkwardness, he began to worm his way into the circuits once more. He knew almost every suppressor model on the market, knew their structure down to the last screw. He just had to find that _one weak spot_ and…

There!

All three of them looked up at the clinking noise as soon as the collar hit the ground. But he wasn’t done yet. One cuff then the other, he shook off his shackles like a simple leather jacket.

They were looking at him like he just pulled off something impossible.

_To them, maybe._

You think this is impressive? Watch. With a wave of his hand, all of their suppressor cuffs fell off, prompting a few gasps of surprise. He let them get used to the pleasant wholeness again as he tried his shoulders and reached out in the force to feel the base around him. Now that his thoughts were clear of the initial rage and urgency, he was able to plan properly.

“Well then. Shall we go?” He asked with a smirk.

“After you, darling.”

_Ah, Ventress. So funny sometimes._

“Not a chance, luv. Never again will I turn my back to you.”

“Come now, don’t be petty. You were out of it.”

“I was only out of it _after_ you choked me _._ ”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“Please, can you discuss this _after_ we’ve got out of here?” Tano, as always, had a point.

“Alright. Let’s get this party started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know what I need? Treaphy. Lots of teraphy.  
> Also, this is getting drained of all the fun it initially had (if it had any)  
> I think this might be a sign...


	11. "Help me Vader, you are my only hope" or something like that

“I’ve never planned on killing you. But I’ll make you share my pain, Kenobi.”

Kenobi struggled and got beaten up for his troubles.

Maul grinned and raised the blade to kill the woman.

The Duchess was barely conscious at this point.

And Vader chose this time to intervene.

“I think I haven’t seen this much drama since the last time I turned on channel 43.”

Maul’s hand was trembling around the weapon, yet he didn’t have the necessary might to push back against his hold, no matter how hard he struggled. Vader was deep in the dark side, a massive black hole in the force. There was no way to best him on his own field.

He stepped out of the shadows. With a simple snap, the ex-Sith’s arm that maintained the control over the force grip choking the Duchess snapped. The dark sider screamed. Vader had the woman in his a gentle force grip before she hit the ground, taking her away from danger with a simple pull.

“Sorry for being late.” He said, grinning at Kenobi, who just knocked out his shocked guards. “Had a little problem on the way here.”

“Better later than never, I suppose.”

Though the Jedi spoke to him, it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. While Vader stood like an impenetrable fortress wall between the lovebirds and the enemy, Kenobi was trying to gently coax the woman back to consciousness. All the while the mandalorians and both of the zabraks pulled their weapons on him.

Vader felt the grin tug at his lips.

“You can be smart or stubborn about this. Either way is fine by me.”

_Please be stubborn. We haven’t had a good kill in ages._

“Vader, we need to get out of here.”

“By all means, go.”

He sensed Kenobi’s reluctance and the Duchess’ confusing, almost enough for the Jedi to remain and help. Which, quite frankly, _insulting._ So he lowered the shields around the bond they had (not missing the part where Kenobi winced as soon as the dark presence sank it’s tendrils into his mind, using the bond as a channel.) and sent him a message in the most teasing tone he could muster.

_“You don’t actually think I need help against them, do you?”_

That did it. Kenobi left with a last apologetic glance.

“ _I’ll contact you as soon as we’re safe.”_

_“Alright, alright, now scram.”_

The enemy was firing now and the Dathromirians were charging at him, so he snapped the necks of the soldiers with a flick of his wrist and fell into a dance with the brothers. Oh, they were _good._ _Really_ good. Maul more agile and swift then Savage, the latter trying to use his bulk to his advantage. They were not good enough to actually _threaten_ him, but good enough to put almost all of the Jedi to shame.

How fascinating! How _thrilling!_

After about two minutes of trading blows, they reached a small impasse. None of them were panting, but Vader felt _wariness_ roll down from them in the force. Felt them poke at his presence and then shy away in terror.

He was humoring them and now they knew. Their only chance at besting him was in light saber combat. His force presence was a shadow over their head, dwarfing everything in its radius and stealing the light from the room. It’d cost nothing more than a force grip and a snap and both of them would be dead. They had no chance to match the tide that was Vader immersed in the Dark Side.

Just to keep them on edge, he kept a noticeable pressure around their neck.

“Come now, don’t be shy~”

Vader cocked his head to the side, chasing away the soreness that settled while he was watching from up there. The two Dathomirians were circling around him, seeking an opening. It could’ve been so much _fun._ If only that old bastard hadn’t shown up.

“Cease, Lord Vader.”

He stilled, rolled his tongue around and pressed it against his teeth, not even trying to hide the frown. With a blink, he looked away from the two brothers and turned his head to the side, making eye contact with his _Master._ He felt the Force being flooded by fear as soon as Maul recognized the new voice. Vader watched with a frown as the previously so lively opponent sank to his knee without a second thought.

_Such a shame. He was so promising until now._

(Fear is one of the most powerful things in the galaxy. Compared to a Jedi, Maul is powerful.)

_Compared to us, however…_

He made the mental motion of chasing the dark thoughts away with the brush of a hand. Maul’s power was not even close to his, but his _light saber techniques_. Truly a sight for sore eyes. Against one of his own league, anyone would be hard pressed to defeat him ( _Very_ impressive, Kenobi). Shame Sidious didn’t train him more thoroughly in the use of the force.

He listened to the former apprentice and master go back and forth for a while. Then the corpse decided to draw attention to him as well.

“You’ve seem to have already met Lord Vader.”

Maul sent him a calculating gaze and Vader made sure to show him his best dragon grin, accompanied with a dark exhale in the force, filling up the throne room with his presence.

“I’ve had the pleasure.” The Zabrak cradled his injured arm closer to his chest.

“Though Lord Vader is not my apprentice, he is quite useful when he decides to be obedient.”

He couldn’t help but spit the next words, furious gaze burning holes into the Chancellor’s back. “If you wanted obedience, you should’ve bought a dog.”

“That’s precisely what I’m doing right now.”

Showing a frown again, he turned his back towards the group, pulling up his hood and headed for the exit. Just as he said, such a shame. Maul had lost all of his good points by taking the knee. He wasn’t an expert in Sith shenaningans and such, but wouldn’t such weakness be punished by something?

_Death?_

(Nah, not that much.)

_It’s Sidious, nothing is too extra for this guy._

(This is the first time _I_ remind _my own inner voice_ that I’m the most extra guy in existence.)

_Don’t undersell Kenobi, he can be a flashy bastard when he sets his mind on it._

Right. Leaving the throne room.

“I have no wish to take part in your cat and mouse game.” He threw back, making sure his snarl was audible.

“Wait for me by my ship.”

_So much for not being a dog._

***

While he was playing glorified guard beside the ship, sitting on the stairs and fiddling with his thumbs, he searched out Kenobi and Tano through the force. The little Padawan was not here, but her force presence noticed his gentle poke throughout the mass of space between them, so she couldn’t have been so far. Somewhere in this quadrant for sure.

Kenobi was calmer now, though he still felt the small ripples of the adrenaline’s aftereffects in the man’s force presence. But he was out of danger, so that’s good. Vader felt a little guilty for almost arriving too late. When he got Kenobi’s message he was a little taken aback, if he allowed so much honesty.

And old enemy of his resurfacing and taken his woman (he denies it, but _come on,_ he has _eyes_ ) hostage to lure him to Mandalore and kill him. Or kill the duchess in from of him, as he later saw it almost play out.

(Which reminds me, another _huge_ bad point on Maul’s part. Torturing people with their loved ones? Yeah, the least cool thing in his book.)

_We should’ve roughed him up more. Take a limb or two._

(Or three.)

_Or three._

Speaking of Maul, both him and Savage were following Sidious like two beaten up puppies and ooooh, someone’s missing an arm~ Curious. It’s no wonder he missed the other’s pain in the force. The zabrak was projecting since Vader broke his arm.

But still. Was that a punishment or was that only because Sidious just happened to feel like it? And how come Savage was still alive? No offence, but he wasn’t anything special. His force powers were below ‘meh’ and his saber skills… well, he’s seen worse, but he has certainly seen better.

“Picking up strays?” He found himself asking, yellow eyes following the trio’s approach.

“We can find some use for them. There are, after all, plenty of jobs that you find beneath you.”

He wants Jedi killers. Nasty, nasty old Sidious.

He made a show of slowly standing up, walking around their _Master_ like he was nothing but a pole in his way and stepped directly in front of the two, who were having a hard time meeting his gaze for a minute before giving up completely and lowering their heads in submission.

“Glorified errand boys then. How _fitting._ ” He was _bad_ for enjoying Maul’s fury and sheer, utter _terror_ in the force. He then turned his back towards them and faced Sidious, knowing very well that neither of them would _dare_ to attack. “I’m returning to the front.”

“You do that, Lord Vader. I’ll send them after you soon. Teach them how it’s done.”

“I’m not a mother hen. Pass them over to your apprentice.”

“Lord Tyrannus has better things to do.”

“So do I. Those smooth victories don’t just arrange themselves.”

“That is why I’m giving them to you. To help.”

_Why, you old-_

“Whatever.”

He sent one last icy look towards the two brothers, grabbed their minds with an iron grip that made them flinch and pulled them closer just so he can whisper into their head through the force.

_“Touch what is mine, get under my foot and it’ll look like an accident.”_

He stormed away, leaving a grinning Sith Lord and two sweating lackeys on the steps of Mandalore.


	12. Say, Kenobi, would you be interested in a small... deal? / Thought you'd never ask.

“ _General?”_ Came Commander Cody’s voice through his comm and he answered it on autopilot.

“Yes, Commander?”

“ _It’s the_ Specter _, sir. It’s been spotted close to the surface_.”

Shocked from the news, he reached out through space via the force, looking around, searching and… _there_. He felt the cloaked presence through the bond. Close, _so close._ Vader was _here,_ on the planet.

“ _General?”_

 _“_ Where is he? Close to the base?”

_“No, sir. He appears to be alone near the abandoned facility.”_

Appears to be. Vader is _never_ what he appears to be. Obi-Wan’s hand itched to make contact. _Try_ to make contact, at least. But no, that would be useless. _This_ was the contact. Vader _allowed_ them to spot the _Specter_. He was either inviting them to a meeting or luring them into a trap. Perhaps both.

“Prepare to engage. If they sent the Second in Command here, this factory is important.”

“ _Understood.”_

***

Mistaking the _Specter_ was impossible. There was no other ship like that in the whole galaxy. At least Obi-Wan has never seen one, and he had seen _a lot_. There were speculations on the holonet about where it was made, _how_ it was made. The most popular theory was that Vader had the parts made in different places and then put it together himself. Mechanics and pilots were secretly or none too secretly drooling over it from all systems.

The fire power it held was immense. There were recorded sightings of that small ship alone taking down small _fleets_. While the body of the ship was layered, almost impenetrable, the wings were an every shifting mystery. Obi-Wan knew that somewhere in the database there is a documented number about just _how many_ shapes the ship could take (at least how many they knew of), but he didn’t really care enough to look. He stopped counting after ten.

There was always a strange kind of excitement when Vader brought out the _Specter_ to play. Usually he played the part of the mouse, distracting the Republic fleet instead of destroying it. There were rare times when he put that ridiculous fire power to use and he usually only aimed at buildings and other environmental factors to make a way for himself and leave his chasers behind.

When the battle was in space, he just played catch between the asteroids, showing off his pilot skills that would likely put Obi-Wan into an early grave. Just _hearing_ about some of them left him a little week in the knees.

Long story short, the _Specter_ was _always_ in motion. It didn’t wait around, didn’t stop. Seeing it stay in one place, landed and alone, was a peculiar experience. Obi-Wan used the opportunity to take a long good look at the ship as a whole.

“This is a sure win for us.” Came Ahsoka’s voice through the comms. The grin was unmistakable in her tone.

Apparently, there was an ongoing competition about who could take the clearest picture about the _Specter_. Well, good to know she had some passion, despite that not being too compatible with her Jedi teachings. If Vader taught him anything, it was that flexibility was always the key to success.

_‘I might just turn out like Master Qui-Gon to my old years.’_

“I can’t believe I’m actually seeing the _Specter_ in real life!” This clone was a newbie on Ahsoka’s team. She bullied him into letting the young one tag along so he can see the _Specter_ from up close since he was, apparently, a huge fan. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. They are usually very careful with whom they allow to know about their peculiar relationship with the dark lord. (Except that disaster with the senators) “This is like a dream. Am I dreaming?”

“No, you’re not. Don’t mess up your pants, Shinie.”

“Chatter.” Obi-Wan warned them.

Rex and ‘Shinie’ apologized, but Ahsoka just snorted and picked up the discussion right where it was left off, letting the new clone recite what’s possibly every known information about the _Specter_ ever recorded. But it was hard to be upbeat for him. Even harder to relax. Obi-Wan almost felt the usual chill and static that always accompanied the dark lord.

“You guys are forgetting that the ship isn’t here by itself. The owner is bound to be nearby.”

 _That_ managed to sew Shinie’s mouth shut. Vader’s reputation was well known even to the freshest soldiers in the army. Or the ‘shiniest’. His ruthlessness was over exaggerated nowadays, but it used to be well earned at some point. Back when he was the scourge of the Republic and the living embodiment of everything there was to fear about the Separatists. In the first few months Vader established what he _could be_ capable of. Since then he had toned down the destruction to a great deal, but his reputation endured.

“Don’t worry soldier. I am here to make sure you live to tell your brothers about the experience.”

Just as those words left his mouth they reached the previously established landing point. Everyone exited their ship in a fast and methodic way. Ahsoka wished them good luck on the comms and went back to her own task. Her job was to engage the droids on the ground with a small force to make sure the dark lord doesn’t receive back up, distracting any possible reinforcements from the enemy’s side.

Obi-Wan looked at the ten soldiers behind him, all ready to ‘party’ and gave one last nod of encouragement before they began to approach the abandoned facility. They reached the building without any confrontation and as far as they were able to tell, the whole place was unbothered for years now.

There was only one soul inside, his presence hidden under a thousand cloaks, but still noticeable to those who are specifically looking for it. An invitation and a trap indeed. As they sneaked past the _Specter_ he was unable to push down a smile. Shinie was positively _vibrating_ in his armor.

“I’d let him cut off my hand in a heartbeat if he allowed me to touch it for a second.”

Cody smacked the newbie on the back of his head.

“Watch what you’re saying.” He whispered.

Obi-Wan felt realization and mortification from Shinie.

“So sorry, General. I’m an idiot.”

“No need to apologize soldier. After all, it is a really nice ship.”

Since he was so invested in the force around the whole facility, he managed to pick up Shinie muttering ‘really nice ship’ under his breath in so much incredulity that it was borderline outrage and couldn’t help but smile at that.

They entered the facility. Narrow and dark corridors greeted them. Vader’s playground. The not-really-Sith rarely engaged on a battleground he didn’t dominate, or at least had advantage on. His illusion’s abused the darkness that denied his opponent their sight and helped him appear omnipresent.

Everyone expected the surprise ambush. He felt the nervousness and uncertainty from his men. As always, they didn’t know what to expect from Vader. Obi-Wan felt more and more on edge the further inside they’ve got. Just when he felt like his nerves might snap from the tension, _finally_ the familiar voice broke the silence.

“Your new little soldier is very noisy, Kenobi. I could sense him from orbit.”

Every soldier around him snapped to attention, pushing their backs to each other like a well-oiled machine, pointing their blasters towards the darkness. He ignited his light saber, taking up the stance of Soresu, trying to spot the dark lord despite knowing that Vader will not be seen if he doesn’t want to be.

“You’ve left your ship at the entrance. Really, Vader, I expected better.”

Amusement and annoyance resonated through the force. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to push out Shinie’s fear which was blood in the water. Vader wasn’t a Sith, but he thrived on fear. He always smelled is out and Obi-Wan had a feeling that the other man found it hard to resist the ‘intoxicating’ (Vader’s words, not his) aroma in the force.

He shouldn’t have allowed Ahsoka to talk him into bringing Shinie. He should’ve known better.

Before he could address the figure stalking the shadows, suddenly all of his men where grabbed though the force and strung up to the nearest flat surface. Turning around on instinct, he tried to wrestle against the might of the dark sider to free the soldiers, but he was no match for Vader. Not to mention he became a little too distracted when the false-dark lord stepped out of the shadows right before his nose.

“Hello, Kenobi.”

Blazing yellow eyes stared down at him, which was even easier due to their height difference. The veteran part of his group raised their blasters, but all of the weapons crumbled into scrap metal without (thank the force) crushing their hand as well.

Startled and wary of Vader’s excessive use of the dark side, he put his light saber’s blade at the man’s neck, but not attacking him yet. For some reason the other didn’t draw weapon.

“Let them down.” It was meant to be more than a suggestion. Uncertain ally or not, he didn’t take well to other threatening his men.

“Order them to leave and I’ll let them go.”

“General-“

“I accept. Now let them down so they can go.”

“As you wish.”

They all fell back on their feet, coughing a little in discomfort, but not hurt in any way. Obi-Wan had to order them multiple times to scram. Even those who knew the dark lord’s position were wary about his inexplicable dark mood. Then it was just the two of them, his blade still humming at the other’s neck, Vader’s dark expression didn’t change.

When the dark sider took a step closer, he had to adjust the angle in order to not hurt him. The blond man was taller than him, so in order to keep up the eye contact, he was forced to raise his chin. The closeness and the silence unnerved him to a great extent.

He watched the dark lord slowly draw in a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. Vader physically swallowed his pride before speaking.

“Is that deal still on the table?”

Relief bloomed in his chest intertwined with such hope it made him light headed for a second. He made sure to release those feelings in the force before he answered, keeping his voice neutral and business like.

“Yes.”

“And what does it entail?”

“Us helping you get your team back.”

“And how do you envision that happening?”

The only reason why he didn’t deactivate his light saber was because then the only source of light would be Vader’s blazing eyes.

“You need to tell us where they are. I’m sure you’ve gathered every accessible information about their situation. We’ll need those to get them out and into safety.”

“And what will I pay with for this help?”

“You tell us who Sidious is and how to unearth him.”

The dark lord chuckled and cocked his head to the side. The smile on his face wasn’t happy.

“He’d eat you alive little Jedi. All of you. He has too much sway and you have too much to lose.” Before he could object, the dark sider leaned in, words nothing but a whisper on his tongue. “But he isn’t too dangerous for me. The second my team is safe, I’m going to cut him up to pieces. How is that for a deal?”

He was expecting that. The violence that shimmered under the man’s skin was palpable even to those who were force blind. Vader was prone to act on his anger and he could commit nasty things when he lost control. Obi-Wan couldn’t even imagine what he would do to the person that kept him essentially as a slave for years with the threat of bodily harm to his loved ones dangling over his head.

In any case, the Council saw this as a barbaric, but acceptable outcome as well.

So he nodded.

Something shifted in the man’s eye, in his posture. They eyed each other for a few seconds and Obi-Wan was all too aware that Vader was deciding if he’s really going to put his fate, his _family’s_ fate into their hands. When the other finally spoke, his voice was icy cold.

“I promise you this. If you try to use them against me, I’m going to put every single Jedi on my blade. I like you guys. You are cute. But not that cute.”

Obi-Wan felt anger and protectiveness rise in his chest and he straightened himself, adjusting the glowing, faintly buzzing blade at the other’s neck. The not-Sith didn’t really look bothered by the voice of death whispering into his ear. He was nothing but cold determination.

“We would never. We are better than that.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re right, Jedi.”

Vader produced a data chip from one of his hidden pockets. Obi-Wan left him to contemplate one last time, eyeing the small device as if it could answer his doubts and soothe his fears. With one last frown he slowly put it in Obi-Wan’s free, expecting hand, blinking a few times and stepping away once the fingers closed around it.

“Right.” The dark sider said, voice tight.

“It’s alright. You’re all going to be free soon.”

The blond shot him a dry smile, clearly not believing in small mercies like that. They retreated from the facility together. Outside Obi-Wan’s men and Vader’s ship were waiting for the two leaders to emerge. It was amusing to see that Shinie was still silently salivating at the sight of the _Specter._ This, finally, brought a familiar smirk to the Sith Lord’s face.

“I see you took a liking to it.”

The soldier jumped, his emotions (confusion-fear-excitement) projecting all over the abandoned yard. He saw the clone take a long, disbelieving look at the two enemy leaders standing serenely beside each other while his brothers were clearly uninterested in arresting the Separatist Second in Command.

“It’s alright soldier.” Obi-Wan tried to reassure him with a smile. “Lord Vader is a friendly.”

“What…uhm, _what?_ ”

“It’s a long story, but you have nothing to fear from him.”

“Not now at least.” The not-Sith teased with a hand on his hip and a cocky grin on his face.

Obi-Wan wasn’t impressed.

“Not helping, Vader.”

“Hah! I’ve never had my existence summarized more accurately before.”

“The point is, soldier, that there are situation when Lord Vader is a either a friendly or at least not an active enemy. Don’t engage in combat if he doesn’t initiate it.”

“You’ll get a hang of it Shinie.” Cody said patting the still gaping soldier on the shoulder a few times reassuringly. “It’s a headache and a half, but it’s worth it. Also, don’t mention this to anybody unless you saw either High General Kenobi or Commander Tano state this fact to them first. We don’t want this information to reach back to the Separatists.”

“Which reminds me that Tano’s been engaging for minutes now so I should get going and play a few rounds with her.” He then turned to the still dumbstruck Shinie and said. “If you want to touch her, you should do it now, quickly.”

It took them a few seconds to register that he just allowed Shinie to touch his ship. Obi-Wan watched with a fond expression as the clone approached the _Specter_ with both awe and anticipation. He even allowed a laugh when Vader teased the poor soldier about taking his hand as a price poor Shinie actually having no issue with it.

Once the dark lord was gone to engage in a dog fight with Ahsoka, they were left in silence in the old yard.

“This is the best day of my life” Shinie said, still blinking away the sheen of excited tears.

Obi-Wan rubbed the data stick in his palm and couldn’t help but agree.

What a great day indeed.


	13. Moments of chaos

**Kenobi is cheating cheater who cheats.**

Vader was not sulking. He was _not._

After all, who was he to be upset about Kenobi having yet _another_ nemesis? His mother? Nope. He was just, apparently, one of the three. He felt _cheated._ You are supposed to have only _one_ of those and he was the first to call dibs on Kenobi, so the _rest can scatter_. He kind of accepted Ventress, since she was, well… her. She was a fine duelist, a cunning warrior and … whatever, Ventress was a _shared_ nemesis. She was competing with both of Kenobi and him at the same time.

But Darth _Maul_. _He_ was supposed to be Kenobi’s equal? Kenobi’s, who was steadily climbing up the steps of power and finally starting to match Vader in more and more fields?

What an _insult!_

Kenobi hates the Zabrak’s guts, why doesn’t he just make him short a couple of inches and be done with it? He already bested him once when he was a _Padawan_.

_I think that was with a pinch of the Dark Side._

(I’ve officially ran out of fucks to give about that. See? Empty. No more fucks here.)

_Alright, alright, it’s not my fault Kenobi’s cheating on you._

(Don’t say it like that.)

But back to the topic. He was pissed, insulted and a little hungry after that battle, but that can be remedied, unlike the source of his anger. Maybe he should just cut the new additions in two and launch their remains into space.

(It’s not like anyone noticed Little Serpent missing either.)

_I’m pretty sure Tyrannus noticed but he decided she isn’t worth the headache._

(My point exactly.)

He watched the two of them battle from his seat at the edge of the railings and scoffed every time Kenobi’s attacks were blocked by Maul’s. Seriously, what is the Jedi doing? Is he drawing it out on purpose? That’s not like him at all. He always took his chances against Grievous and Ventress to defeat them given the opportunity. Why is Maul so different? The question was driving him mad.

_Maybe it has something to do with his Master._

(He was killed by Maul, right? But what does it matter? He already took revenge for that one.)

_Hardly if Maul still lives._

(Then it makes even less sense why he is toying with him right now.)

 _Not toying, per say. Maul_ is _a very skillful duelist._

Well… yeah. He was. Vader dueled him a few occasions to pass the time and Maul showed a surprising resilience. Obviously, he was trained to be a Jedi killer from the very beginning, his style overwhelming almost any members of the Order he could come across. There were exceptions of course. There always were. To be honest, there are two people in the Jedi Council that even _Vader_ would be unsure to engage in a fight with.

And speaking of them, one was on this planet as well, not too far from him actually.

Not that he was hiding from Windu. No Jedi could match him in force power. Vader keeping his distance was more of, for a lack of better explanation, a matter of principle. Master Windu used _that_ style. Vader broke down many of his conditioning through the years, but he still couldn’t quite quench that one.

The respect towards Vaapad.

The seventh form. The perfect balance between Light and Dark side. Vader’s people respected it above anything else, since they strived to achieve the Great Balance between the two sides of the force. Truth to be told, Windu wasn’t a _complete_ Vaapad user, not like the High Commander or The Mistress were, since he only delved deep into the Light and did not dare to sink into the controlled chaos of the Dark.

But it was _Vaapad_.

_But isn’t it kind of an insult to call it Vaapad if he never sank into the dark?_

(You’ve seen the footage. That _is_ the Seventh form. If anything, the fact that Windu managed to stay on the Light side is even _more_ impressive.)

Kenobi was still messing around with Maul. They were at an impasse. Vader wasn’t ashamed to feel smug about the fact that Kenobi at least didn’t do the usual back and forth banter with the Zabrak. Though that could be because Maul was beyond anger and the only thing that came out of his mouth was frustrated screaming.

_Windu is approaching._

(I know. We should get out of here.)

_… Or we could let Kenobi kill Maul while we go a few rounds with Windu? Don’t even deny it that you want to test his skill in person._

He really couldn’t deny that. He itched to duel the Jedi Master. To test both of their skills. To see how _close_ he can get to…

(Well, if you put it that way)

**When Sith meets Grandmaster**

Despite hearing so much about him, Yoda had never met the young Vader on the battlefield. The dark sider didn’t even make a secret about evading him at all cost. It was a shame. Yoda really wanted to talk to him. The Force whispered to him about secrets and wisdoms a man like him could possess, about having insight to things a Jedi could never study safely on their own.

Yoda had never met Darth Vader. Until now.

Face to face at last, two things struck the elderly master at once. One, he was _so young._ Not even in his late twenties. Although he already had the appearance of the man, the posture of an experienced soldier and the eyes of someone who already saw too much, there was still a youthful bounce in his step as he paced back and forth before the window. His eyes never stopped measuring Yoda up. A peculiar combination of predator and prey.

The other was his power. The sheer indomitable will of the Force was standing right before him. Yoda could only guess the extent of it, but knew from the first moment that Vader outweighed him in this field. He heard much about the admirable flexibility of the man’s techniques from other Jedi who met him on the battlefield.

The only thing Yoda had over him was a few centuries worth of experience.

And Vader knew that. His eyes told Yoda that he knew that. The reluctance on his face spoke volumes every time his hand twitched towards his light saber. Yoda was content on watching him for a few minutes, curious about what he would do if the ball was in his court.

“I did my very best to avoid this meeting.” Vader finally said, weary.

“Aware of that, I am.”

“I’m sure you also deduced _why_ I did that.”

“Explain it to me with your own words, you should.”

The dark sider’s face twitched but he stood his ground, not pacing anymore.

“It took ten years for my teachers to beat the majority of my arrogance out of me and replace it with attentiveness. Since then I was more or less able to choose my battles. To measure up which ones I can win. I’m not ashamed, though a little bitter, that this is likely not one of them.”

“A fight, you expect?”

Something flashed in the other’s eyes. Yoda watched as bit by bit the young man calmed down his instincts and relaxed his muscles. The attentiveness never left him. He was ready to bolt any second. But he stayed. After a few seconds, he gestured to the only seat in the torn up apartment that was still in more or less good shape.

Yoda took his time approaching the chair and sitting down. Vader did not move closer to the door, despite now having a clear route of escape. The young Sith (or not) remained right where he stopped.

“Anger, I feel in you. Disappointed in Master Kenobi?”

“I would certainly like to punch him for setting me up. But no. I’m sure he either meant well or was pressured by the rest of the Council.”

Yoda hummed. Vader was telling the truth. The anger he initially felt right after the majority of alertness dissipated was already starting to fade. Curious. Vader was not a traditional Sith, though he used the dark side excessively. Even in such a young age he resisted the more violent temptation of the dark side of the Force. His impulses did not dominate him.

“Much to discuss, you and I have.”

“I’m afraid we have to speed it up then. Every single one of my officers keep an eye on me. I’m already on thin ice just for coming here unwarranted.”

“Distrustful, Sidious has become.”

“He never trusted me in the first place. I’m a ticking bomb in his hand. That is why I advised you all to be cautious. I can only give you the information he entrusts me with. I might as well unwillingly lead you into a trap every time something major is happening.”

Yoda sighed and scratched his head. He did not come here for this.

“For you, I’ve come here.”

Vader didn’t even twitch.

“You want to know where I came from.” It was not a question. “It doesn’t matter anymore. My kind was exterminated six standard years ago. One team of seven likely never made it out, though I didn’t saw the bodies, the other was not present when the genocide happened.”

“Search for your Order in the archives, I did. Information given by yourself and Master Kenobi, I’ve used.” He saw Vader flinch and become stock still. “Teams of seven, trained in both sides of the force.”

“And?”

“Some records form three hundred years ago. Nothing more.”

“Did you tell anyone else?”

“No. Understand you better now, I do. Safe with me, your secret is.”

The young warrior didn’t look like he believed him for a few minutes. Yoda could understand. This strange order he hailed from simultaneously made him the most powerful and the most vulnerable person in the galaxy. Vader is now deprived of his anchor and mantle. If he doesn’t get the other six back soon, he’ll spiral out of control. Completely.

That, or if he doesn’t develop a new bond.

**When Jedi met Sith for the first time**

_The darkness was suffocating the hangar. Obi-Wan has never felt anything like this before. It was a swirling vortex of unsuppressed fury, begging for a reason to lash out. It was massive enough to made finding its center impossible. The shadows were dancing in the corner of his eyes and the sounds melted into a walls, creating an eerie silence._

_Part of him found it hard to believe that a second Sith of such might exists._

_That would be a disaster._

_His instincts were going haywire. The Force screamed at him to get out of there as soon as possible. An incomprehensible, monstrous being was fuming on the first floor of the hangar and it desires nothing more than to sink its teeth into something. But he had a duty to fulfill. Someone has to see what kind of predator lurks in the corridors and it is better him who has a chance, than his men who would be squished like bugs in the face of such power._

_He was close. A metallic, salty taste filled his mouth. The phantom sensation of blood. Tendrils of darkness were twirling and lashing out just around the corner. He let out one last calming breath before he turned, finally facing the horrifying enemy._

_A young man. Taller than him. Broad shouldered and lean. He was standing in a complete dark attire, hands folded behind himself. He watched the clones and droids battle each other in the open part of the huge hangar, somehow unnoticed by both parties. Obi-Wan felt a shiver go down his spire as the man slowly turned around._

_Gray-blue eyes met blazing yellow ones._

_“Obi-Wan Kenobi. Padawan to Qui-Gon Jinn, Grand-padawan of Darth Tyrannus.” The names rolled of his tongue like he was reading it from somewhere. Stating a fact. Like a droid who just scanned a face._

_The hair on his back stood up at the man’s calm nature, a total contrast to the all-consuming tempestuous fury he was in the force._

_“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure before.”_

_“We did not.” Then, after a second he continued. His facial expression did not change yet Obi-Wan felt the disgust in his voice. “I was given the name Darth Vader.”_

_The shimmering force stilled around them. The name from his lips cut into it like shrapnel and though the force couldn’t have body, Obi-Wan felt like the words just cut into its flesh and drew blood. The after waves of the name were nauseating, something that was not supposed to exist yet it was inevitable at the same time._

_He was polished in the force, carefully and (if he was allowed to use such a word) artistically. A black diamond with a thousand sides. A man who felt like the personification of the Dark Side. Of death._

_Something was really wrong._

_Vader turned back to the raging battle before him, like a puppeteer, a_ god _looking down at the pieces on his board. His arms were still folded behind him._

_“How many did you bring?” Vader suddenly asked, startling him._

_“How many what?”_

_“Troops. How many?”_

_As if he would confess such information._

_“How many did you?”_

_“Only one that matters.” Vader looked back at him over his shoulder. "How many?”_

_The force screamed a second too late._

_The Dark Sider’s eye visibly narrowed and suddenly, Obi-Wan was choking. Not just choking, but dying. All those twirling dark tendrils lashed out at him at once. They drove through his shields like a hot knife cuts butter. He felt the sensation of a hand reach into his mind, swipe through a few memories and information, looking for the answer._

_He felt like a bird under the paw of a tiger. No matter how he struggled and fought back, his tries were brushed away effortlessly. Vader was a gargantuan monster with countless arms at his disposal, pushing down every inch of him until he got what he wanted._

_And got it he did._

_“Five hundred.” He said and the pressure on Obi-Wan vanished just as quickly as it came._

_He coughed, forcing air into his lungs. He fell to the ground at some point. His whole body felt like the bones were taken out and his head was pounding like crazy._

_“Get better, Kenobi.”_

_And he jumped down into the battle. The Force mourned even before the Sith landed in the middle of the battlefield. Try as he might, Obi-Wan did not manage to get himself to the railing and look down. Sickeningly, he didn’t need to. He knew exactly what was going on._

_Obi-Wan heard the metal bend and break on impact and knew that despite that, Vader stood up unscratched. Felt the hum in the force as he raised his arms and several of the metal plates that served as the hangar’s floor (from which each of them weighted more than 1000 pounds) were levitated into the air. And then Vader launched them. He cut through droid and clone without a blink._

_Obi-Wan could only listen how Vader hunted down his troops like a children burns ants._

_They were dead before they could conceive of surrender._

**It’s not Vader’s fault he found the Crown Witness of the case, he was just messing around**

Vader did not know what to expect.

One never knows what to expect when they lunge into the center of chaos. Not that something like chaos would ever stop him. He snatched the struggling clone into the darkness. The poor soldier was radiating fear, desperation and confusion. Vader’s metal hand clasped his mouth shut and his force presence snuffled out every noise that could betray their position to the searching troops, while cloaking them from force users at the same time.

He knew this one. Fives, his name was. They knew each other, though never cultivated an overly friendly relationship. Still, there was no reason for Fives to continue struggling after they recognized each other. But he did. If anything, the soldier resisted him even more.

_Interesting._

(But most annoying when you want to hide away from search parties)

_Then we shall take him somewhere quieter._

He did so. The _Specter_ was close enough. Not risking Fives catching him off guard, he knocked him out via Force. The trip to the ship was uneventful. No one spotted them. Vader did not risk leaving into orbit just yet, so instead he piloted the ship towards the surface, hiding it horizontally in an alley. Once parked, he slipped out of his seat and climbed down to the unconscious clone.

(What could’ve happened to him?)

_Look at his head. He was operated recently._

(A minor procedure, judged by the sealing. Hm.)

With a careful Force suggestion, he eased the soldier back into consciousness. Fives blinked a few times and groaned from a headache which echoed into Vader as well through the frail force bond he fabricated in order to read the man better and keep him calmer.

“Easy, Fives. It’s just me.”

It wasn’t enough. The soldier looked at him and immediately recognition and panic flooded his minimal force presence. Vader let him crawl away, deciding to not the push the matter too much. Something was seriously wrong. The fear and fury radiating from the man was almost nauseating.

“Where are we?” The clone asked, once he was calm enough to breathe more easily.

“On the _Specter_.”

“Did you bring me here to kill me? To put that thing back into my head?”

_That’s just… several red flags at once._

(No shit.)

“I won’t do anything. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“What? Expect me to believe that you’ve just happened to be in the area and decided to kick up the wasp nest?”

Vader just gave him a raised eyebrow and a quirk of a smirk, while shrugging in a ‘what can you do?’ way. It took Fives a few minutes to really calm down and drop his gun (which wasn’t even enough of a threat to be acknowledged until this point). The soldier groaned and rubbed his head and neck.

“The Chancellor is the Sith Lord behind the war.”

Vader grimaced for a second, then pushed his lips together. It was enough for Fives to put two and two together. The soldier let out another groan, this time one of defeat.

“Of course you knew.”

“I mean, I do receive my orders from him.”

“Right. So it’s all true. This war, everything is a ruse. A game? All those people… my brothers… we all died for nothing?”

There was so much pain in his voice even Vader felt his tongue get tied up. This has been something even he felt terrible about for a while now. He couldn’t even imagine what Fives was going through now. Or more like, not to an extent. In essence, his own team was put at gun point to keep him in check. Once Sidious tired out his uses, it’s the same fate that awaits them.

“Not yet.” He said. “He did not win yet.”

The clone barked out a skeptic laugh.

“He related his whole plan in front of a Jedi Master and she considered it ‘Unlikely’.”

“Forget the Jedi. They have their uses, but not in this.” Now that the clone was calm, it was time for some questions. “Why did he tell you this, anyway?”

Fives hesitated for a few seconds, but then he told him everything. What happened to Tup and how he removed his own chip, only to find out what it did to them, to all of the clones. Vader listened to him relate how he looked for help, but nobody believed him. Meanwhile, his mind was running with light speed.

“He won’t rest until you are dead.” He said, standing up. “You know too much, he’ll want a body. He will set Ventress on you, or worse. He’ll send me.”

Fives sent him a questioning glance, not really asking ‘what should we do’, but close enough.

“You have valuable information and are a first person witness. I’ll need you later, so you cannot die.”

_Oh, he’s going to hate you for this._

(It’ll be a first lesson. I’m nothing like a Jedi.)

“I’ll need a body to make sure he is off your trails.”

Fives stood up too, trying out his joints.

“And how do we get one?”

“I’ll solve that problem.”

“How?” But he knew as soon as he asked. “No. You can’t do that!”

“I _will_ do that. I’m no Jedi, Fives, no hero or peacekeeper. This will not be a partnership.” He used the force to pull the struggling, cursing clone closer to himself. Vader knocked him out again and sighed.

Fives will hate him so much for this.

_But at least he won’t have to willingly participate._

***

When he entered with the body hauled over one of his shoulders, Sidious was with his back to him. He looked calm outside, but the nervousness of the Zabrak brothers kneeling behind him told a different story about his mood. Not to mention the swirling vortex of fury he was in the Force.

“Lord Vader. Fortunate you are here. It seems our _Jedi Hunters_ cannot even find a single _clone_.”

“Told you not to waste time with them.”

And he threw the body on the floor. He tried not to think about it too much, but it was impossible, when the dead soldier had the same face as the one that screamed bloody murder at him as soon as he woke up from unconsciousness. Swatting away the memory, he watched as Sidious turned around, surprise flashing in his presence.

“You’re welcome.” He said with the driest voice he could muster. The two Zabrak began to sweat even more. “Found him running around in the tunnels, screaming ‘The Chancellor is evil’ from the top of his lungs and since I had a hard time imagining this as part of your plan, I decided to remedy the situation.”

“It’s surprisingly… proactive of you, Lord Vader, given to your record of playing with your food.”

“Kenobi was just around the corner. Didn’t have time for a chat. I’d rather him not know I’m here.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

Vader knew that one day his sharp tongue is going to be the death of him, but who the kriff cares anyway?

“He cheated on me, so I’m giving him the silent treatment. Right, Maul?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sidious cut the budding tension short with a swipe of his hand. “Well done, Lord Vader. Return to your task. As for you two…”

Ah, the sound of Sith Lightning in the early twilight.

Not to mention he just demonstrated the ineffectiveness of these two annoyances.

He got a witness against Sidious.

And rubbing his own skills into the bastard’s face was the cherry on top.

All in all, a nice day.

Pity it started with murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I hit a MAJOR writer's block. I'm also in college and nearing my exams, so that doesn't help. These were supposed to be chapters on their own, but I realized that they won't get bigger than this. So I just decided to share.  
> (also, let's keep Ahsoka at the order for now. We shall see if I can touch that story)


	14. Under too much pressure, anyone breaks (But my friend, we were always meant to be a diamond together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't. Don't read this, just don't, none of this makes any sense and I'm ashamed and I apologize, I have nothing I could bring up in my own defense...  
> I ' m s o r r y

Vader watched the holo footage over and over again. 

_Look at her go. I’ve always knew the little spitfire had it in her._

(She almost caused a political nightmare between Remenia and the Republic)

_My point exactly._

It took almost half an hour to slice through the footages until he managed to cut out the necessary parts and put them together into a single chase scene. It was glorious. Tano did not rely enough on the Force or just didn’t know all the ways one could use it in a situation like this (no doubt a product of the incomplete knowledge the Jedi kept of the possibilities laid out before them), still she managed to stay on track till the end.

The embassy was just something she had no way to prepare for.

Vader felt the ambassador shift around nervously beside him, his gaze sometimes on the footage and sometimes on him. He paid the man no attention. He did not come here personally to gain something a lackey of his could get him. He just needed to keep the attention on himself while Ventress worked on the two conversations he _really_ wanted to see.

“Lord Vader?”

So it seems his time was up.

“I still do not know what exactly you wish to gain from me, Ambassador. Although I understand your wish to stop staying neutral after this incident, I still feel you’re grasping for excuses to get under the Count’s protection.”

The man swallowed and though he did not start fidgeting, his feelings were clear in the force around him. Vader didn’t even need to concentrate to read him like an open book. He was overtaken by the urge to sneer or at least roll his eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean, My Lord.”

“No? How about the fact that you’ve been hiding a known criminal on your surface? Even though he lacked the necessary citizenship you refused to give him up then threw a fit when the Jedi rightfully tried to arrest him. Or that his first instinct was to run to the embassy, as if he _knew_ he would get protection here.”

Vader watched the man get more nervous with every word that left his mouth. When the poor guy tried to rebuke the barely veiled accusations, he cut into his words and went on.

_Rude._

“You must understand Ambassador that the Count’s issues are with the unjust and corrupt way the Senate works. The same corruption that is seemingly festering here in your parliament. We are not some sanctuary for people who are rightfully accused by aiding a terrorist.”

He was deeply aware how hypocritical each of his words were, but it seems his opponent was too intimidated to point it out. Besides, it’s not like Vader was the one who wrote the script. Sidious was the one deciding who plays on which side and according to Tyrannus, this planet had little to no worth in their eyes. The most they can gain from them is the good propaganda of not accepting possible terrorist aiding planets into circles.

That and the conversation between the ambassador and the now dead fugitive. 

“Not to mention you’ve talked two hours with the Negotiator before this incident? How do we know you did not come up with this plot to insert yourselves as spies in our ranks?” He scoffed and stood up. “If you have nothing to offer then I’ll take my leave now. I have a war to wage.”

The ambassador finally shook himself up from the shock and hurried after him as Vader was strolling out of the building. 

“Lord Vader, please! Consider the people of the planet! If the Republic decides to punish us, they will suffer.”

He stopped and jabbed a black gloved finger into the man’s chest.

“It is not my job to worry over you people, Ambassador. You’ve known the consequences of staying neutral and both parties respected your decision.”

“Clearly not since the Jedi wreaked havoc on the streets of my capital!”

“The second you’ve aided that fugitive, you’ve ceased to be neutral towards the Republic and the fact that you haven’t thought of striking a deal with the Count _before_ it blew up in your face shows a serious lack of consideration of your part. I’ve demoted men for much less. I suggest you cooperate with the Republic and hope that they are more forgiving than I would be.”

_Because would it be up to us, your head would be rolling._

(Damn straight)

The man did not give up until Vader exited the building and stepped into the _Specter_. He grew more frantic every second after he realized he no longer got any attention from him. Vader checked in with the fleet and then sent a message to Ventress to see if she finished which seemed to be a waste of time because as soon as he closed the door of the ship, she emerged from the shadows.

“Since when do you have keys to my ship?”

“Remember that time with the Correlian wine?”

“How could I forget? The worst hangover of my life.”

“You are just a lightweight.”

“No, _you_ are a hazard to my health.”

“I thought that was the reason you liked me.”

_She’s got you there._

Vader huffed and effortlessly raised the ship from the ground, headed for the flagship sent to him by Sidious. The dreadnought was commanded by an Admiral he had not met before. A Harch from Secundus Ando, if his memory serves him right and it usually does. He briefly looked into the male Harch’s military history and found his achievements pleasing enough.

“Whatever. Did you get the footage?” He asked as he exited orbit and headed for the hangar.

“I’ve got them both. A one and a half hour long conversation between Kenobi and the ambassador and a five minute long hissing fit between our friend and a representative.” She handed over the two data sticks and Vader pocketed them.

“Perfect.”

_It seems, we’re in for some digging._

***

Frankly, Obi-Wan had no idea how he got here. That was a common occurrence when Darth Vader was involved. One second you try to make do with _ten million credits_ worth of chips (and somehow you are considered _poor_ here with that amount), hopelessly fishing for information about something that you don’t even know much about, let alone where to search for, the next your arm is hooked into a firm grip as a dark sider leads you towards the _top level_ of the casino.

He was barely allowed to look towards that level of the Lotus before. Only Onyx Card Players and Guests were given entrance to that place. The same Onyx card that Vader flashed to the console after entering the elevator that slowly crept upwards on the side of the pyramid shaped building (inside the other building. It was confusing.)

But again, Vader was infamous for being the man with a key in a world of locks. There was nothing that could stop him if he wanted something, no matter how much time or resources he needed to consume in the process.

Obi-Wan measured him up from head to toe and realized that he was underdressed compared to the Separatist Second in Command. He chose a simple cream suit for the occasion. 

Vader on the other hand donned a silk and velvet dark suit, a cloak similar to his usual dark one strapped across his right shoulder, thin black leather gloves and a smooth cane to have an excuse to keep his hand occupied. Not to mention in proximity of a threatening object. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be surprised if the cane turned out to be a light saber or a blaster in some way.

“I’m so glad to see a familiar face here. At least _someone_ won’t try to lunge for my throat.

Obi-Wan suppressed a groan.

“I’m glad you are happy to see me. I suppose you already have ‘everything covered’?”

“Sharp as ever, General- no, my apologies, _High General Kenobi_. From now on you are officially my Guest in the Casino. Your Guest card will arrive shortly. Until then, I’d rather keep you close, less you find yourself thrown out.”

They grinned at each other. Vader’s expression was genuinely happy, if not a little feral and Obi-Wan felt fondness mix into his own amused gaze. This little old banter was familiar. Comfortable. He already felt a little better in his skin, despite the news twists and turns introduced to his mission.

“At least I can keep an eyes on you like this. Someone has to keep check on your explosives before the whole building is blown sky-high.”

Vader hummed, not even having the decency to deny it.

“What do you even hope to accomplish here? No matter who you choose to harass this time, I’m almost sure a more opportune moment would’ve shown itself, even if later rather than sooner.”

Despite his words about the ominous nature of this place, he was terribly cheerful for someone who was about to enter the viper’s den. The top was where the wealthiest (most warmongering, richest, most vicious, _cruelest-_ ) played, people who had more money than the usual monthly maintenance cost of the whole army. But it’s not like _Vader_ has anything to fear. If anything, _they_ are likely terrified of _him._

There was a difference between power and _power_ , after all.

Even if this planet oppressed the Force like posion, Obi-Wan still felt the ancient energy buzz around the young man. While he felt like he was constantly drowning, Vader didn’t even seem annoyed by being cut off from the Force.

One of his most annoying mysteries, no doubt.

“Can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Use you-know-what here?”

Vader sent him a smile with too many teeth.

Obi-Wan never really managed to figure out just _how_ Vader used the force in these situations. He saw the man shake off force suppression cuffs and get rid of midichlorian blocking poison from his system like it was a toy. By all means the more powerful he is, the worse he should feel in a place like this. 

“Will you ever tell me your secret?”

“I was tortured.”

Obi-Wan hated that cheerfulness in his tone.

“Alright. Another question then. What's _your_ deal here?”

“Oh, I’m here on business. _And_ for you. You’ve got many eyes on you, Kenobi. And I’m the best in the field.”

“What field?”

“Baby-sitter.”

This guy…

“How _generous_ of you to accept the job.”

“Maul was one of the alternatives.”

That shut him up. It took many sessions of meditation to deal with his emotions regarding the Zabrak. It was a constant struggle. Every time he thought about the Sith, Qui-Gon Jinn’s death flashed before his eyes. Despite their rocky start, Obi-Wan loved his master and was deeply shaken when the man had met his violent end. 

Not to mention that now Maul went after Satine. If not for Vader she would’ve been the second loved one whom he lost to the man’s blade. And now the Sith fled back to Sidious, waiting for a chance to destroy even more lives. Obi-Wan felt like this was a personal failure of his. _He_ was the one who couldn’t put an end to the rampage.

“Am I such a bad alternative?”

Vader’s question shook him up from his musings.

“No, of course not!”

“Then why the long face?” He’d rather not answer that. Vader watched him for a few seconds, then sighed theatrically. “Come on, Kenobi, I’ll teach you how to live a little.”

As the elevator finally reached the top floor, Vader pulled him through a crowd that was just as richly dressed as he was. Everyone’s eyes followed them, though few made it obvious. They entered a vacant room. A dressing room.

Vader pushed Obi-Wan into the chair before the mirror and while the young woman did her best with his hair, the dark sider swept through at least a few dozens of outfits. He didn’t understand what the younger man was mumbling about and could only watch as he finally decided on one suit. 

“Are _you_ dressing _me_ up?” It was clear from the start, but still.

He didn’t even remember the last time when _he_ was the one being fussed over. It must’ve been when he was still a Padawan. It seemed like ages ago. 

Vader snorted.

“I need to, apparently.”

Honestly, Obi-Wan saw little difference at first glance, but didn’t argue. Vader was as proud as a peacock. In battle and at galas alike. Somehow he always knew how to dress to impress. He was most likely taught how to blend in in every situation. While Obi-Wan had no problems accommodating the Senate and charity galas, casino houses were something he had little to no experience with.

Hence he let Vader push him into a closet and donned the suit the other has chosen for him. It was creamy white with auburn embroidery that matched both his skin and his hair. Frankly, he found the cloak a little too much, but he was not the expert here. He drew the line at the accessories though. A single tie pin and a watch should be enough, _thank you very much._

“You should never underestimate the power of presentation, Kenobi. After seeing you on the battlefield I was under the misconception that you know how to make a grand entrance.”

He rolled his eyes at the jab.

“If you try to put makeup on me, I’m out of here.”

The dark sider let out a rumbling laugh.

“No such thing. _For now._ ” There was no telling from his tone if he was joking or not.

Vader stepped away from the mirror so he could examine himself. He had to hand it to the man. It was a completely different picture. Less of an upstart rich man and more of a noble with a long line of ancestors. 

“There is no fooling them I’m afraid since we are the poster boys of the war, but it’s still an improvement. Ah, here is your card.”

It was a Guest card. The Player cards were colored according to their ranks, their edges silver while the guest card was the exact opposite. Black lining. Obi-Wan suddenly felt like _he_ was the accessory. Someone that Vader could flaunt around for a reason he cannot phantom yet but will find out the hard way before their stay on the planet is concluded.

“Excellent. Everything is ready. Let us not waste any more time. The Opening Game is about to start.”

“What is our cover story?”

“Our history of temporarily burying the hatchet from time to time is quite well known through the galaxy. You have the reasons, I have the way and thus we ended up here together. Anything else is classified.”

Obi-Wan nodded. Inwardly, a dreadful question occurred to him. Which was worse?

Sidious raging about Vader publicly showing face with Obi-Wan?

Or him arranging it...

***

He took back everything he’d thought about Vader being a menace. The man was a blessing. He just _knew_ instinctively what he needed to do, how he needed to act and present himself in order to shape the room and the conversation. Vader was control personified. A lot more forceful than Obi-Wan would ever wish to be. Everything a Jedi must never become.

Their dynamic reminded Obi-Wan to that kid he once met during a street fight.

“ _If he is a Lord and you are a Knight, aren’t you supposed to work together?”_

What a charmingly innocent way of thinking about it. Yet it was right to some extent.

Working on Vader’s side was easy. The dark sider entered a conversation, took hold of it and wrestled away everyone’s agency. Then as soon as he had them submissive and pliant Obi-Wan was free to work his magic and do the more subtle part of the convincing.

Vader strolled into the room like he owned the place. His intimidating aura was not diminished by his inability to use the Force in this building. He just radiated charisma as he descended the stairs and stalked over to the main table without missing a beat. Both of them took a free seat at the same time and Obi-Wan almost laughed. They mirrored each other’s posture. Must’ve been an startling sight.

A few moments of silence. Then…

“My apologies, Lord Vader, but this a closed game.” The dealer started with an unsure tone, taking note of Obi-Wan’s guest card and putting two and two together.

“To which I’m invited to with a plus one.” 

The dark lord reached into the hidden pocket of his coat and produced a creamy white envelope. It’s been opened before and when the dealer examined it, he came up with two black tickets. Obi-Wan recognized the casino’s logo on the other side of the envelope. Besides the ticket, there was a letter as well. After reading it over, the dealer quickly apologized.

“Lord Vader was invited by the Lotus Casino to represent the establishment for the weekend, alongside with his chosen Guest.”

“Exactly! Here I am and here is my plus one.” He gestured vaguely at Obi-Wan.

This guy. It’s one thing to find a way inside a closed event like this, but to have yourself be invited as the representative of the casino is a whole new level. Obi-Wan was curious if this was all Vader or did the other two Sith pull some weight as well? Or maybe it was the casino who asked him here for business? Ugh, this is why his first thought about the man as a menace.

“So be it.” Angus O’Sullivan said with a bitter expression. The one who, according to their intel, has some information about the incident that started this mission in the first place. “Let’s just start the game.”

So they did. At first it was more boring than tense. Initially Obi-Wan was baffled how much money they were talking about. Vader gave him _ten million_ credits worth of chips, the maximum amount he can start with as a Guest. Obi-Wan wondered if they were currently emptying the Count’s coffers. Apparently everyone (but him) started with one-hundred-million and they had the right to exchange further ten-million, but if they lose that as well, they are out of the game.

The first twelve or so rounds were silent. 

The players concentrated on the game and fooling each other. Obi-Wan was collecting information on their body language while he tried to give away as little as possible. The only one he had a hard time reading was Angus O’Sullivan. The man was giving away very little and even when he did, Obi-Wan was hesitant for one reason.

Vader did nothing yet.

The dark sider was biding his time. His eyes were locked in on the man in question who was brave (more like foolish) enough to meet his gaze head on. He was drumming steadily on the table, barely even paying attention to his cards. This was the only reason Obi-Wan hesitated to challenge the man, even when he got a great hand. 

The first true noise besides the dealer speaking of course came from the blond kind-of-Sith.

“How about something to drink? Do you want anything, General?” This was the first time they addressed each other since the game started.

“No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll have a drink.” Immediately two waiters stood by attention. “Maybe something sour for the sake of the aesthetic? With ice. And shake it up.”

This started a cascade of the other guests ordering custom made drinks as well. All except Obi-Wan and Angus. He was becoming redder with every word spoken. And Vader was watching him all the time with a smirk on his face. This was the turning point, Obi-Wan knew.

A challenge to dance.

And dance they did. Without any prompting, Vader became vicious. In the next ten rounds he won nineteen million with three wins and seven throws. Angus was redder and redder with each minute, his anger building as Vader continued to sip his drink with a self-satisfied smirk. 

Obi-Wan looked down on his cards just the same time the dark sider’s ankle bumped into his under the table. It was easy to keep the poker face for a war forged man like him, even with an ace pair in his hand. What really interested him was how Vader knew about it. Did he manage to influence the cards, count them or did he simply feel the opportunity in the force?

So many questions and he doubted he’d get an answer soon.

“Bring Lord Vader and his guest another drink. It’s on me.” Angus said while they were slowly betting upwards.

“Very attentive, Mr. Sullivan.” The dark sider said, raising the bid himself and while Obi-Wan quietly did the same, he went on. Despite ordering him a drink, the merchant did not as much glance at him. “It seems you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“How could I not, My Lord? I’m sure everyone here would agree that you’re the most interesting person at the table. You and your guest, the High General of the Republic who was also invited by you, his well-known arch-enemy.”

The numbers were going up and people were throwing hands. Vader’s gaze was locked in on Angus and vice versa. Their smiles showed too much teeth.

“Arch-enemy implies hostility.”

“Is there not?”

“Not at all! I find High General Kenobi a highly entertaining individual. Remarkable strategic mind and dueling skills. Of course, it’s not only him. The whole Jedi Order are made out of people one cannot help but pay attention to. Their devotion to the Republic is something else.”

“Interesting point of view from a leader of the opposing side of the war.”

“One can admire the skills of his opponents from afar while still seeing the flaw in the ideology.”

While they were talking, the numbers climbed sky high, Obi-Wan had to actually call all-in in the last round, betting all thirty–million he managed to gather on Vader’s plan/hunch/strategy. Angus looked at him baffled when he said the word. Then looked back at Vader more furious than ever and raised his chin in a challenge.

“I raise to fifty-million.” He declared.

The dark sider barked out a laugh and raised the glass that was just put down before him by a waiter.

“You sound so sure, Mr. Sullivan. It seems I have to retreat before I fall for a _Hannibal’s trap._ ”

A few hissed around the table when Vader threw his cards, abandoning the game after betting twenty-million up until this point. The dark sider did not look like he grieved the loss at all as he was openly gleeful about Sullivan’s seething face. 

“May the best hand win then, General.” Sullivan said to Obi-Wan then, raising his glass.

He waited until he returned the gesture. Something flashed in the Force, strong enough to reach through the fog of the planet’s suppressor field. They drank. The dealer asked them to show their cards.

“Mr. Sullivan has Three of a Kind.” The Dealer said, presenting the three dames.

Obi-Wan put down his Ace Pair. A roar of laughter erupted from Vader.

“High General Kenobi has Higher Three of a Kind.”

He was sure that if looks could kill, both him and the still laughing Sith would be dead. It must’ve took a great deal of self-restraint for the man to not scream as he lost thirty-million and Obi-Wan gained fifty more besides winning back his own thirty. 

The Dealer, very wisely, called it a night.

***

Despite laughing his ass off at that idiot’s spectacular fail, Vader was not having a good time. He was having the opposite of a good time. Yeah, sure, he had the chance to screw with everyone at the table but _now_ he has to babysit a poisoned General and _that is not fun, chief._

Especially when he tried to warn him, but the planet blocked the message halfway.

But whatever, usually Kenobi did the babysitting so just this once he can forgive the role switch. At least he managed to deduce the poison and use the antidote correctly because now the man looked better. Like he just had a rough night. 

_Relatable_. 

Instead of being dragged through the fields of Umbara by a raging rancor.

_Less relatable._

Kenobi groaned on the bed. Vader watched him come to consciousness from his seat, legs and arms crossed. He tried to go for the less than impressed expression, not sure if he managed though. The Republican General blinked a few times, then noticed he was in horizontal, then the cold patch on his wrist and forehead, then his coat as a blanket and finally, Vader.

“What happened?” His voice was hoarse.

“You drank poison.”

_Totally not going to let you live that down, by the way._

“Why I am in pants only?”

“I had to spray you with cold water before you got cooked from the inside out.”

“Is that why you’ve changed as well?”

“No. You threw up on me. Twice.”

_You also began to mumble once the high fever hit, consistently called me ‘Master Qui-Gon’ and insisted on some sort of mask?_

(I’m sensing a trauma there that I’m unsure about poking.)

Kenobi groaned again, but out of embarrassment and exasperation this time. Vader watched him struggle finding his latest memory and honestly felt for the guy. The first time he was poisoned at the age of twelve it was done by one of his instructors and later they also beat him up for failing to notice said poison.

“I don’t remember throwing up?”

_Hah!_

“You wouldn’t. You were close to death at that point. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The corridor? I felt warm and then you said.” Silence. His eyes widened in realization. “You said ‘Look what a mess you’ve gotten yourself into’. You _knew_ I was poisoned?”

_Aren’t you a smart cookie?_

“It was the drink. Would’ve worked if you were alone. It’s called ‘The Kiss of Fire’. It kills moderately fast while burning you through from the inside. The only antidote is from its home planet, the roots of the very fruit that’s used to make it.”

Kenobi raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“And you had it?”

“I have everything.” 

He poured the man a large glass of water and then openly sprinkled a spoonful amount of white powder into it. Kenobi took it, though he didn’t drink it just yet. Smart.

“What was that?”

“It’ll get you back on your feet. Replace the resources you’ve lost by sweating and throwing up. Think of it as a vitamin. It’ll also make you more resilient, should you encounter the poison next time.”

He left the man alone to get himself together. He’ll need it. Vader suspected that Kenobi had no idea what they, as in the Jedi Order, have just stumbled into. He managed to quick-read the man’s datapad about his mission while the Jedi was trying to get into the suit he picked up for him.

_He really needs better encrypting._

(Maybe I can offer him some. With a backdoor, of course.)

The information was scarce for a reason. Even what he had was most likely false to some degree. No one would be able to recognize the patterns, because they do not know what they are looking for. But Vader knew. He grew up with these people. Knew the ways their mind worked, how they made information disappear. 

This game yielded more results than he originally thought it would. He didn’t think that asshole’s lackey would show hand so soon. Maybe they are not afraid to dance with him. A spineless creature like Angus O’Sullivan would never move without being ordered to. But he specifically targeted Kenobi. Maybe the Jedi was someone they didn’t account for.

_Unlikely._

Still, one hare was out of the bush. He’ll pay the man a visit soon.

***

There was a terrifying kind of aura shimmering around Vader, something that wasn’t present before the poisoning incident. Obi-Wan was touched, but worried all the same. Worst of all, this wasn’t like with Ahsoka, he cannot tell the other to be mindful of his feelings, no matter how much he wanted to. Vader would laugh in his face. Or whack him over the head with something heavy.

So he decided to initiate conversation about something else.

“I didn’t know you liked ballet.”

“It’s not my favorite form of art, but I find certain pieces enjoyable ebough. Do _you_ not?”

“On the contrary. I find it fascinating. It’s just…”

He didn’t know how to phrase it that he thought Vader would find something like this boring. In the end he didn’t need to because as always, Vader knew what he was thinking. The dark sider didn’t even bother to feign offense, he just huffed in amusement.

“It makes an accommodating scenery for boring conversation. Elevates the number of impulses to a high enough degree to stop me from falling asleep. But you are right to some extent, because if without my relentless teacher, I’d be hard pressed to sit through any type of play or spend time analyzing a piece of art. She was the best at drawing your attention to parallels between things that interests you and things that do not.”

“She sounds like a remarkable woman.”

Vader laughed and despite his next words, it was jovial.

“She was our worst nightmare. Between a hundred and the grave yet with the grace and reflexes of a viper. I don’t even know how many times she whipped me for missing a step.”

“You dance?”

“I’d be a poor assassin if I wouldn’t.”

“I knew _that_ , but ballet?”

The dark sider laughed again.

“Force, no! Not for the lack of trying on her part though. I suppose I _could,_ but it never agreed with me. There’s too much self-restraint involved.”

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan was wondering just _who these people were_?

So far he knew that Vader dwelled in both dark and light side, he was a trained assassin as much as he was an effective soldier and tactician, had enough practice in the political games to sway a _queen and her court_ and now he knows _ballet_ of all things. What? Why? For what reason? Just what kind of soldiers did his Order produce?

The dark sider rolled his eyes.

“You’re practically projecting through your face. Don’t act so surprised, Kenobi. You Jedi are far from the only Order who dwelled in the Force. I could name at least six other from the drop of a hat and some of them are people even I wouldn’t be happy to cross.”

 _Now_ his interest was piqued.

“Have you met people from other Orders?”

“I believe so. Unlike you Jedi, the small Orders don’t really start the conversation with name and rank. You should consider yourself lucky if they tell you their real name. But yes, I’ve met a few. Most of them were infuriating. Anyways, we are here. I’ve had a box reserved for us. I believe its box five? I hope we won’t run into any phantoms though. A close call with poisoning was more than enough excitement.”

As they took their place, Obi-Wan began to really consider the fact that he had absolutely no idea why Vader was here. There were so many possible explanations to this question, they made his head ache. But he must consider the worst case scenarios at least. 

That’s the downside of having a secret ally in the highest circle of the enemy ranks. You had no idea when were you playing on their hand and when was the help genuine. Or both. Vader was the master of ‘both’. He had a way of leading you on while also somehow nudging you in the right direction. Leading you down to your goal, while making you do a few twists and turns to satisfy his own goals before you could reach yours.

“You are awfully silent.” Vader observed.

“I have nothing to say.”

“I find that hard to believe.” The dark side user seemed amused. “Come on, entertain me. How are things with that lovely Duchess of yours?”

He felt the tip of his ears go red while he winced.

“I’d rather you not refer to her as such. It might gave someone the wrong idea and I’d never tarnish her good reputation. She is not _my_ Duchess.”

“Of course she is. Yours, I mean.”

He groaned, his right hand sliding down his face, almost flesh like under the soft glove.

“Vader…”

“Spare me the denial, Kenobi. I recognize bedroom eyes from a miles away. You look at her like she hung the moon on the sky.” The blond grinned, mischievous. “Has she asked you to leave the Jedi yet? Build a small house somewhere on Mandalore? Rule besides her in Court? Be her faithful advisor who also-“

He shot the man a warning look before he could finish that sentence, already knowing that tone too much. The false Sith let out a deep, amused chuckle. Obi-Wan knew that he won’t drop the subject. There was something honest in him, though. Vader… he just _was._ He did not expect Obi-Wan to be the perfect Jedi, the perfect Padawan, the perfect Master or a perfect General. He just rolled with everything, teased mercilessly and hit with the force of krayt dragon, but in the end, he was the type of friend that let Obi-Wan be whatever he felt like in the moment. Even if that was for the sole reason to encourage his dark impulses, there was some trust in there.

“She did.”

Surprise flickered in Vader’s eyes. Genuine surprise.

“You’ve turned her down?”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“It’s more complicated than that. If she’d asked me years ago, I’d have left the Order for her without a second thought. But now, in the middle of the war, the Republic needs every soldier it can get.”

“That’s High General Kenobi talking. What about Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

Is he really taking relationship advice from Darth Vader? The man who admittedly never even thought of settling down with a single person? “ _Flings and one-night-stands and honey-pots I can do, but not love. It’s just… No. Not love.”_

Obi-Wan sensed a story there.

“It doesn’t matter. She is livid with me right now.”

Confusion flickered over Vader face. It was immediately followed up by realization.

“Kriff. The Rako Hardeen incident.”

Obi-Wan nodded and even he knew it was a miserable gesture. The Rako Hardeen incident was a mess. In every shape or form. It started when Vader went silent for two months. At first the Council had thought that Sidious wanted to break in the two new dark siders under his command and Vader was kept from the frontline. There was no more information coming in from him. Their spies were still feeding intel, but not enough and they got whispers about Dooku wanting to assassinate to Chancellor.

Obi-Wan tried to reach out to Vader to confirm the source. He used an emergency line, sent the address of a safe house and a date. It wasn’t Vader who showed up, but Ventress. She was surprisingly subdued as they talked and she barely knew anything about the dark sider.

“ _He left without a word. Haven’t been able to reach him since.”_

He still did not know where Vader was during that time. Since Ventress did not know anything, the Council came up with the Rako Hardeen plan. He played his own death and went undercover himself. At first it seemed to go well. He even blocked his bonds with everyone (which was a horrifying experience). It also drew Vader out from wherever he went. 

Every time the memory resurfaced, his throat began to ache.

***

_Let it be known, that Darth Vader was the scariest creature in the galaxy. The way his molten gold eyes were blazing in the darkness of the corridor and the shade his gold locks cast on his face made him a creature right out of a nightmare. His metal fingers were unyielding against his throat and slowly choking the life out of him._

_Obi-Wan tried to struggle out of the hold, but there was no way. Vader was serious this time. He did not know that he was choking his ally. Obi-Wan was experiencing it first-hand why the scum of the galaxy were still terrified of the mere thought of the man._

_“I do not know how you got him.” Vader hissed into his ear, his voice venomous. “But your luck is over now, assassin. If I’d had the time, I’d remove every bone from your body in alphabetical order. But time is short. Say goodbye to your rag life.”_

_Since he could not muster up his voice to speak, to explain, he reasoned that blowing his cower was better than actually dying. So he opened that single bond towards Vader that the two of them have been nurturing for a little more than year now. The dark sider let him go like he just burned him._

_“You… Impossible!”_

_He expected the punch. He was actually surprised his cheekbone didn’t fracture._

***

The dark sider was prickly with him for the rest of the mission. Went out of his way to give ‘Rako Hardeen’ a hard time, to make him uncomfortable and seem like a fool. The assassination attempt was thwarted, though it was a close call. Vader agreed to keep close to the Chancellor in the shadows and kept him safe from any stray bolts.

The first weeks of his return were hard. Though the Jedi understood that he did it for a mission, Ashoka took it really hard. Later Vader told him that when he took back his com, the Padawan had left him at least a hundred messages. When she couldn’t find solace in Vader, she went to Padme whom she was not as familiar with, but close enough.

Padme was hurt, but she understood as well. She knew what kind of sacrifices one had to make in order to keep the Separatists from tipping the balance of the war. 

But Satine…

She still haven’t answered any of his coms after that screaming match.

“Yeah. That.”

“Kriff. I’m sorry, Kenobi.”

He was sorry for Satine not talking to him, but he never once apologized for punching him in the face.

 _“You deserved worse.”_ He argued.

“It’s alright. We’ll figure it out.” _Hopefully._ “After the war is over.”

They settled into silence for a while. They watched the dancers move and listened to the music surge. Though his body was witnessing the play, his mind was elsewhere. Now that he’d thought about the incident, he realized that Vader never told him where he was during those months. He shot a glance towards the dark sider.

Should he ask? The worst thing that could happen is he doesn’t get an answer.

“Where were you?”

“Hm?”

“During those two months. You’ve never told me.”

Vader gave him a glance from the corner of his eyes.

“In unpleasant company.”

“How charmingly vague.”

The Separatist Second in Command sighed and turned back towards the dancers. For a few seconds Obi-Wan thought he wouldn’t get an answer, but then the dark sider spoke again. His voice was strange, like it was strained or out of breath.

“My Order is extinct.”

That… wasn’t the answer he was expecting. It took him a second to comprehend the horror behind those words. The whole Order… extinct? Someone or some people took on a whole Order of warriors like _Darth Vader_ and managed to genocide them…

“By the Force…”

“I was there when it happened. We were, with my team. Barely managed to get away alive. We tried to go back and bury the dead, but the weapon they’ve used… there was no way to stay long enough, so we didn’t count the dead. Turns out, one other team survived for sure.”

That was… Obi-Wan couldn’t even imagine the feeling. The exhilaration. To think that your whole kind was dead and you were the last of them, only to suddenly have another one, _more_ than one. That must be the greatest feeling after such a dreadful event.

But Vader wasn’t smiling.

“What happened?”

The dark sider cleared his throat, let out a rumble from his chest.

“In our Order, every team had a nickname that described them. A trait that embodied the core part of their tactics. Our mentors were the Unrelenting Ones. Those who pushed us to the brink of death without mercy in order to make us like them. My team wer- _are…_ ” Obi-Wan’s heart ached at the slip up. Vader let out a sigh. “They named us the Vicious Ones because we were brash and didn’t flinch away from everything in order to reach out goals. We also had an ongoing feud with another team.”

He guessed those were the ones who survived.

“Rivalry?”

“No. There’s no respect, only seething hate. They specialized in torture and intel. After the Last Trial, they were named Cruel Ones by our leader. And they lived up to that name.” His leather glowed hands were clenched into fists now. Obi-Wan felt like Vader wasn’t even talking to him anymore. “They survived. Those cockroaches.”

There was no hesitancy in his voice. He knew it for a fact.

“You’ve met them.”

“I’ve hunted them. They’ve hunted me. In times of need, fractured teams of our Order cannibalize each other. He lost two members since the purge and had the audacity to want _me_ as a replacement.”

That must have went over like a natural disaster. Vader clearly despised this person. He’d never willingly give up his team or part with his title. Not to mention he’ll never follow a single order from the second he threw down Sidious’ mantle.

“You fought?” He tried to remember if Vader had any injury when he showed up on the mission.

“Sort of. Killing or maiming me would’ve been counterproductive for his plan, but they had no hope to survive a clash with me without coming at me with full force. So they crashed a water container on me and fled.”

They sat in silence after that, but it was alright. The mood was already dead twice over.

***

So far Obi-Wan figured that Vader most likely had two missions. One of them was easy to deduce. When they went out to ‘socialize’, the dark sider kept close to one person in particular. An ex-senator, whom at first seemed wary of the man (most of the people present seemed to feel that way. Vader just had a… reputation, so to speak), but about an hour later he was enthusiastically chatting with the sort of Sith.

So that was a win on the Separatists part. Obi-Wan did not like the inner conflict he experienced because of that. On one part, standing in Vader’s way would only slow him down and met with some type of retribution, standing around and doing nothing felt like treason.

He opted to concentrate on his own mission instead.

It was a pity Ahsoka didn’t manage to catch the man before the office has blown up, but Obi-Wan did not blame her. After all, he lost the man’s partner to the same fate. Clearly, someone was cleaning up their own trail. A burned piece of metal that survived the explosion led them to Dream Corp.’s chair of directors, especially the CEO who was already dirty with many ‘accidents’ and ‘disappearances’.

It should’ve been a clean cut case, but there were surprisingly few tangible evidences they could use to link the man to several more bombings and espionage against the Republic army and bases. So he came here to dig up some. Still, he felt like chasing a shadow.

It’s been six hours since the Opening Game. They had about thirty more until the next one.

“How’s your mission coming along?” He took a seat.

Vader called it a night five minutes ago, opened a bottle of disturbingly expensive wine and invited him to the balcony of their suite that looked upon the gardens around the casino. There was always night under the dome and the neon lights were always flashing. The myriad of colors reminded Obi-Wan of Coruscant.

“I am closer to my goal than I predicted I’d be by now. What about you? Any luck with… whatever is your task here?”

Obi-Wan frowned and suppressed a sigh.

“I wish. I’ve been given a ridiculously short amount of intel for this one.”

“May I?”

He placed the unlocked datapad in the dark sider’s waiting hand and watched his face as he was reading it over. Obi-Wan almost knew it without reading at this point, since it was barely consisting of two pages, not counting the pictures. He already chewed his way through it over and over again, but he could find no more connections besides the one that lead him here and even that seemed like grasping at straws, though it might not be as makeshift as it seemed if the man went for his throat the second he suspected Obi-Wan might be onto him.

“How amusingly vague. You came here because of a _piece of metal?_ ”

He was already prepared for the teasing.

“There was nothing else.”

“There’s plenty, you just don’t know where to look.”

“And I suppose you wouldn’t be generous enough to share that _plenty_ with the rest of us.”

Vader poured himself some wine and winked at him over the glass.

“That would suck the fun out of it. Not that you’ll have much fun with this one. Nasty bunch.”

Now that was a hint if he ever heard one.

“You’ve met these people before.”

“Who knows?”

This time, Obi-Wan did sigh.

“Why do I bother with you?”

“Because hopeless naivety is part of your charm.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that one. It got me into a tenuous alliance with an almost Sith-Lord.”

“Not bad. I’ll drink to that.”

And he did. Obi-Wan himself only tasted the liquid (which was indeed exquisite), but half of him was still expecting another round of poison after the incident. He wasn’t a wine person anyway, or any kind of alcohol person. He drank a glass at most on political parties and missions he was assigned to but never for the ‘fun’ of it, as Vader said while he popped the cap of the bottle.

“I forgot to ask, though it should’ve been obvious. Where is Tano?”

“I didn’t really want her to get involved with this place. She is still a teenager.”

“Naturally, but I was curious about where she _is._ ”

“Oh, who knows? Walking her own path, I suppose.”

Vader shot him a look that communicated at least two types of amused vulgarity, but just like any time Obi-Wan was tight lipped about their side of the front, he never pushed. He stated the truth when he called this pact a ‘tenuous alliance’. He would trust Vader with his life. (He already did, more than once) He just didn’t want to put the man into a position when he had to decide if he betrayed Obi-Wan or not. Being kept in the dark about some things helped both of them.

“Good for her.” Said Vader in the end and took another sip.

After that, the conversation was derailed into safer topics. It was a rare occasion when the two of them had a chance to share stories either from the war of from _before._ Vader loved all the stories that involved Qui-Gon Jinn, called him a ‘smooth fucker’ for always being able to insult everyone in his close proximity yet seemingly always get what he wants in the end.

And Obi-Wan enjoyed the stories of the Vicious Ones as well. One would think that missions consisted mostly of assassination would be repetitive or disturbing to some degree, but for the most part it sounded like they were just having fun for ninety percent of the time. Naturally, having that fun required them to enjoy bullet storms and narrow chases, which they did.

“And then she stand up, shoots the leader and goes. ‘Anybody else wants to negotiate’?”

Obi-Wan shook his head in a resigned manner, though he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Apparently, Vader’s Second in Command was a woman named Alia, who seemed like the combination of Ahsoka’s spitfire and mouth with Ventress’s deadliness. 

_‘I chose her as my Second because I knew she would take no shit from me.’_

After a few hours of chatting the conversation came to a natural end. Obi-Wan found himself lost in his thoughts for a few minutes, just enjoying the nostalgia about a time when his greatest fears were the Jedi Trials. How simple those times were, before the war.

He sent a glance towards the dark sider whose face was half hidden under his glowed hand. His chest was rising and falling in an all too familiar manner. He was sleeping. Obi-Wan suspected that he would not get away with his hands intact if he tried to move or wake him right know, so he’ll just have to let the man regret falling asleep in a sitting position later in the morning. At least the sofas were comfortable enough, so he didn’t feel too guilty when he left the man to sleep on the balcony.

Inside the suite he realized that he was hungry as wolf and picked at some of the cold dishes left at the table for them by the room service. Despite the amount and his hunger, he didn’t eat too much though. Everything about this place was too much. Wasteful. Too much color, too much levels, too much music and conversations and flavors. 

How he longed for the peace and quiet of the Jedi temple!

Maybe a nice walk could clear his head. There were some hot pools on the fifteenth level. Maybe he can even think about his mission there, use the water to get his mind working properly. That was the closest place where he could sort of meditate now in this building.

Yeah, he’ll do that.

He barely had time to lock the door before something hit his head and everything went dark.

***

“Wakey-wakey, Master Jedi.”

The first thing that came to him was pain. A headache to be exact, intense enough to feel like his head was being split open. The next was the chill. Not the chill of a room with an intentional cool climate, but the chill of metal and void. He was in a place that nobody bothered to channel heat into. The last thing he took note of were the bonds around his ankles and wrists.

They were also the reason why he opened his eyes.

He was indeed restrained. To a metal chair to be exact. A single glance was enough to deduce that he was in a storage room. But a single glance was all the place got. His attention was captured by something else, something so shocking that even the flash of agony caused by the light could not cut through it or make him close his eyes.

He _knew_ that type of armor.

Around him, five people were sitting or standing in various places. Women and men alike, two of different species that his subconscious recognized but didn’t have the necessary awareness to identify just yet. He was still focused on the clothes. On the weapons. Their style and color and the way their owners _held themselves_ -

_‘They survived. Those cockroaches’_

“The Cruel Ones, if I’m not mistaken.” Force knows only how he found his voice. How he sounded so calm.

The man (the Commander, this was another _Commander_ , another one like _Vader-)_ who was crouching before him let a grin stretch across his face that lacked both warmth and sanity. His eyes twinkled with a warning. A gaze befitting of his team name.

“Ah, Ani was running his mouth again. He never really knew how to shut up.” A chuckle. “Until now at least.”

All of a sudden, a flash of the man sleeping on their balcony emerged in his mind, collided with those words and made his blood chill. No, that cannot be. Vader said this man wanted him to _join him_ and besides, Vader was _powerful,_ more powerful than _anyone-_

But there was no help from the Force here. And five deadly warriors against one…

No. Force, _no._

A shrill laugh escaped the other Commander.

“Man, and I thought Kent said Jedi were closed off. Your face is expressive, Master Jedi.” The man _giggled_ of all things. “I know what you’re thinking. You worry that I cut his throat in his sleep. That I watched the life leave his shocked eyes and then threw his body down into a service tunnel to _rot_ for _weeks._ How long do you think would take for them to find it?”

Obi-Wan felt like the words cut to his very bones. They coiled around his thoughts, made those horrible images come to life. It took all of his will to keep his face from expressing his horror. The hyena like laugh of the man told him that he did not succeed.

“Do not worry, Master Jedi. He lives.” 

He stood up and walked over to a table that was too high for Obi-Wan to see its contents. But something told him that he would not like what was there. Still, the Commander kept speaking in an almost pleasant tone.

“I underestimated him. He was such a scrawny boy before his Trials. I only knew ‘our little Ani’. I admit, I was caught off guard by the man who crawled out of those caves. Ani always rose to my challenges, but Commander Skywalker? He spat on them. He kept looking at me like I was something nasty stuck to his booth. Avoided me like I was an annoyance. I had no chance to know him before he was renamed.”

He raised something that seemed to be a thin metal rod with a small hook on its end. Obi-Wan did not need to know what exactly it was to realize what it was _for._ Vader did say that they were torture specialists.

“And _Darth Vader,_ now _he_ is a different story. Oh, the destruction he wrought! All those bodies, standing in piles! I lost count after twenty thousand, but I’m sure there was _more._ And the _things_ he did to some of them in order to get what he wanted! I didn’t know he had it in him, honestly. He didn’t have any ambition for torture when we were young. Kent always warned us about prolonged exposure to the Dark Side, but if I’d have known that _this_ is what the dark shapes you into, I would’ve told that old goat to kriff himself.”

He needed to escape. It came almost like an afterthought, his brain still a little slow from the shock. He needed to get out of here _now._ He shot a glance towards the other team members. They were all either stoic, grinning like their Commander or something in between. Even at first glance they seemed deadly and Obi-Wan had a feeling that even though there could be a great deal of difference between a Commander and a simple team member, without the Force it inevitably came down to hand to hand combat.

And he never even managed to _touch_ Vader in hand to hand combat before.

“Him growing a spine is an inconvenience though. I’m sure he told you what happened to our Order. Serves those fuckers right. Yet the fact still remains. I lost two members and I’m all out of spares. Only one remains.” He turned back towards him. “This is where you come into the picture. I need something that I can dangle over his head. A little pressure, if you understand. And you’ve followed the trail I left behind so eagerly.”

What trail, what-

He was crouching before him again, face morphed into the mocking mimicry of pity.

“I hope you won’t take this personally.”

“You’re wasting your time.” He hissed with a new found resolve. “Vader would never give up his team. He would let me rot if it meant he would still be their Commander when they wake up.”

_~~I hope he would.~~ _

_~~I hope he would not.~~ _

_I hope he would figure it out like always._

The Commander laughed again.

“He is already giving up on them.” When he leaned closer, he pushed a leather covered finger to Obi-Wan’s temple. “That little bond in your head is proof enough. The only bonds a Commander forms is with his team. He is trying to _replace_ them with _you.”_

Oh, _Force._ He had no idea what to make of that news. His thoughts were all over the place.

“It’s temporary.”

“It never is. He is latching onto you. That small little tether might be the only reason why is he not stark raving mad right now. So fragile. I could blow it away without any effort.” Obi-Wan chin was locked into a strong, brutal grip, yet he could not take his eyes away from the sharp object in the man’s other hand, dangerously close to his right eye. “How do you think he would react? Would he wake up with a scream? A strangled choke? Tell me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you think Anakin Skywalker will mourn for you?”

He did not know. He hoped that the man did. Did not. He couldn’t think. There was a blade barely an inch from his eye and oh, Force, he shouldn’t have left the suite, should’ve stayed inside. His eyes flickered to the man’s face for a second than back to his hand.

_Strange, he has four fingers._

_~~Strange, that I would notice~~ _ ~~that _in a situation like this._~~

The other Commander noticed his gaze. It was a mistake to look at it, he immediately knew. Something sprung in this irises, a bad wire sparking up, a chain snapping-

“It was a gift from him, you know. He took the death of that bitch particularly bad. I’m planning to cut off his in retribution, no matter how fast he surrenders. And maybe, if you live that long, I’ll make you eat it.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze flickered back to the blade that rose high, almost disappearing in the lingering darkness so it can twinkle one last time without blood in the dim light and then just as it began to descend it-… disappeared again. Along with its wielder.

There was struggle and Obi-Wan noticed that the light was much dimmer than before, something that he had no idea when came to be. There were two bodies on the floor, barely visible in the shadows and four more were moving with the speed of a viper and the grace of a panther. Muffled sounds and curses reached his ears, a high pitched scream at some point.

A body landed beside him with a heavy thud. Whoever they were, they did not get up again, though not for a lack of struggling. It seemed like their legs were not working, a sudden loss of control over the limbs. A female form lunged for Obi-Wan only to be yanked back by the head in the last second. More curses and more struggling.

And then there was a sudden silence. Only one figure was still standing, though four out of the five were still moving. The lone dark shape strode over to Obi-Wan and suddenly-

Suddenly he was able to _breathe_.

Vader got rid of his bonds some way, how, he was unsure. He was too occupied with the blood on the man’s face and the way he clearly tried to keep the weight off of his left leg. As the dark sider yanked him up from the chair Obi-Wan realized that something wet and warm and sticky was clinking to _his_ arm now. 

He reacted be became fully aware of the attack, pulling Vader out from under the sharp blade that was meant to embed itself into his shoulder. He heard the sound of a robe tearing, but didn’t pay any mind, just went through the motion of disarming. His opponent was still quick as a snake and slipped out from his grasp, the only reason he managed to get the weapon away from them was because Vader moved in synch with him.

Then he stumbled from a heavy blow on his sternum and took a step back. Before him an amalgamation of bodies went down, the sound of a cut off breath found its way through the pounding of his ear. By the time his eyes adjusted, it was already over with, followed closely by another scream, though he was unsure about the source because Vader grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room.

Somewhere in the next ten minutes they got back amongst _people_.

There were no lights in the room and Vader did not slow down as he pushed through the crowd despite the fact that Obi-Wan _saw_ him falter from time to time. Another hazy minute and he was in a barely lit and tight place. The shadows were sharper here, the contrasts crueler. He came to his senses just the second he needed to catch his rescuer whose left knee finally gave up on him.

“You’re hurt.” He stated, because his brain was not capable of indulging more than the obvious.

“No shit.” The Sith cursed and when his head lulled back against the wall and Obi-Wan _saw_ his neck and face, oh, _Force, ohForce- “_ It’s not-“ A glup of air. “Not all mine… serves the bastard right…”

 _So much, there was so much, how could someone bleed_ so much _and live_ -

 _“_ Kenobi, breathe! In-out. In-out.” His voice was surprisingly even for being so winded.

_In-out._

_Alright._

_In-out._

_Alright, Obi-Wan, you can do this._

_In-out._

_Why was he so… he was not supposed to… he was tougher than this… why?_

_In-out._

“A hallucinogen. He put it in the food. It creates panic.” As Vader was catching his breath, so came back his ability to speak. While he spoke, he was busy wrapping a torn off fragment of his robe around _Obi-Wan’s_ arm and yeah, he was bleeding.

Might explain why he felt so faint. Still, his mind was elsewhere.

One bite. He took _one bite_ of the appetizers. 

The two of them sat there in silence for a while. Once his breathing was calm, his mind started to clear as well. He pushed everything the other commander said to the back of his head in favor of measuring up the Sith Lord sitting before him. Though there was an immense amount of blood, there were only a few cuts that actually bled. At least as much as he saw in the half dark room with the dark clothes. 

They were lucky Vader managed to surprise them enough to force a hand to hand combat. Even one activated light saber would’ve tipped off the balance immensely. Vader let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“You never learn, you naive Jedi.” Then a few coughs. Thank the Force just simple coughs. “But you can thank yourself for still having that eye. You kept his mouth running and his hands lazy. I was ready to find you with some bits missing.”

So much for keeping everything in the back of his head. He almost threw up at the rush.

Instead, he laughed.

***

Later, some other bits of the fight came back as well while they were patching up the wounds. Once Vader got rid of the blood on him, he became surprisingly presentable. Only a few superficial cuts on his chest, a deeper one near his elbow and the back of his knee. And the already dark shaded marks around his neck. Every time Obi-Wan caught a glance at them, he shuddered.

On the other hand, he was lucky that he could still use his arm. Once the dark sider saw the wound somewhat clean, he hissed and called for a medical droid instantly. For a while he thought that the man was blowing it out of proportion, but then the diagnosis came and… yeah.

Let everyone know that Obi-Wan never wants that tool near himself again.

 _So_ many splinters.

But now that it was done and they were finally freshly showered and clothed, he felt a strange sort of void in his chest. It started out as a small feeling and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when.

He needed to clear his head.

***

Vader was _not_ a happy camper.

He should’ve suspected it when everything was going too smoothly. He’s got too far into the lion’s den and almost got mauled for it. He honestly deserved it. This is only a problem now because he failed to run that bastard through with a light saber when they met months ago. Should’ve cut him down the second that _audacity_ left his mouth. He was too careful then and not careful enough now.

He almost shot the man when he found them in that storage room like he initially planned but even in fury his caution managed to prevail. This was not an amateur, no matter how bitter it was to acknowledge the other’s skill. This was another Commander, one that lead the Jedi Vader was bonded with here into his den and used him as a bait. So he took a check the light source above the torture seat and _there it was._

A force field. If would’ve deflected the shot of the blaster, alerted the team that he was there thus robbing him of the element of surprise (the only thing that gave him the upper hand without the force against _five_ ) and possibly give a chance for Zordon to peel bits and pieces off of Kenobi in order to make him bend to his will.

_The fool._

Instead, he slid down the stairs into the shadows and shot out the force field a second before he jumped the other Commander, promptly catching everyone off guard. (It was a kriffin blessing that _Zordon_ was his enemy and not, let’s say, Kent. That man would never stop with only _one_ fail safe. With Kent, he was pretty sure he’d never made it to the storage room to begin with.)

So now he was left a Jedi who was lucky he could still use his arm and showed the sings of ‘I listened for too long to the serpent words and now I feel all sorts of kriffed’ syndrome. 

_Joy_.

He’ll skin that bastard for this. But first, he’ll have to find them. And to find them, he has to heal.

He tested the grip of his hand again, pleased by the fact that he almost regained the feeling in it. In half an hour at most, he’ll be as good as new, except for the slight swelling around his neck and the small, but none too pleasant wound on his leg.

_You should be grateful that he didn’t cut a tendon._

(I refuse to feel grateful for something like that, kriff you very much.)

So, Kenobi was a mess.

He needed to open that can of worms and needed to do it _now._ Kriff subtlety, kriff Zordon and kriff Sidious as well, his Commander instincts were all over the place. Though Kenobi couldn’t be considered a Team Member exactly, he was the closest person he had a bond with. (we don’t count Ventress, she cannot be trusted with a cube of ice.)

_Yeah, because she is scorching ho-_

_So_. _Kenobi_. And his sulking. He watched the man meditate and try to get his emotions right without the assistance of the Unifying Force. Based on his expression, he was getting nowhere. Vader sympathized. 

“Kenobi.”

“Not now Vader. Please.”

“Yes, now. I know that whatever he said is messing with your head, so I need to address it before it takes root.” He walked over to the table. He already had everything sent away and got a fresh course of appetizers. He also checked them while Kenobi was showering, just to be sure. “It’s what he’s best at. He gets under your skin like a silkworm. But whatever he said, it was a _lie._ ”

“You sound awfully sure.” Kenobi seemed a little… defensive?

Curse this place for cutting him off from his force senses.

“I grew up with him. I know how he works. He takes reality and twists it _just right_ to make it seem so much worse than it actually is. Even if some of his words were true, the meaning behind them _wasn’t_. It never is.”

He gave the Jedi a few minutes to process that, to open up on his own without him pushing too much. He’d rather not have the man shut him out when the seeds of chaos have been scattered in his mind. Curse that bastard.

“He said that you’re replacing your team with me.”

_Should’ve known. Kenobi and his blasted nobility._

“Not true. You cannot replace them, because they are irreplaceable. You know humans are complex creatures, Kenobi. I don’t have a limited about of spaces in my mind. Besides, I’m a greedy bastard.” He grinned for good measure. “And a hoarder.”

A small smile crept onto the man’s face accompanied with a loud, amused exhale. It fled as fast as it came, though.

“Won’t this turn into a conflict of interest for you?”

Vader raised an eyebrow.

“You intend to make it so?”

“No, but what if they won’t appreciate me being in the picture?”

“Bloody Force, it’s not a marriage, Kenobi, stop making it sound like you’re a home wrecker or some shit. Yes, it’s a bond and it’s serious but it’s not mutually exclusive.”

When the man still looked like he had lemons in his mouth, he sat down before him with a sigh, chin popped up on his right hand.

“Have you ever wondered _why_ I need a Team? In a practical sense, that is.” He’s got a curious glance, so he elaborated. “I mean, I don’t _need_ a team of people. If I can’t do anything by myself, I just charm the closest expert into my web and get them to do it. If you look at it objectively, having this much emotional attachment to someone is a _weakness_. So why?”

Kenobi drew a breath, even opened his mouth to say something… then stopped. And thought about it. Thought about it long and Vader let him work it out, even though it felt like they’ve been sitting there for half an hour (though his inner clock said it was only about five minutes.)

“Because without them, you’re unstable.” The Jedi finally said, understanding.

Vader grinned up at him.

“Got it in one. I don’t _need_ to have six people in my head, to know about my every thought, to have my mind become a chatterbox every time I open the bonds to full capacity, but it keeps me _stable_. Teams are not formed until after the Trials. We all grow up together, form some kind of bond with _every novice_ and the trainers _observe_. Usually, the potential of a Commander shows itself in a very early age. We are aware, calculating and _powerful._ We plan and lead and observe our surroundings, feel out who could be _useful_ for fulfilling our goals and if they are effective, we keep them.”

He adjusted his shoulders a little, chasing away the lingering ache of the fight that crept forward because of the position he chose.

“Before the Trials, we have Packs. They are much looser and shift from month to month. It’s the closest thing to a circle of friends in that environment. These Packs are temporary and once the Teams are announced, they dissolve like salt in water, but the urge remains. We never _stop_ looking for pack mates. In every system I go to, every planet I land on, I keep collecting useful people. Again, it’s in my nature.”

He could see the cogs turning in the Jedi’s head, trying to grasp what he was saying, but not quite there yet. For a man so brilliant on the battlefield, he was one of the least aware of his own self-worth.

“They make things go more smoothly, give essential outside input, help me _focus_ but they cannot be compared to my Team mates who are _in my head_ , know what’s bothering me, which direction am I leaning to too much. Am I too cruel or do I permit one too many mistakes? Do I rush? Do I go too slowly? _Why_ do I do these things, they all know and pull me back to how I’m supposed to be.”

“Sounds like dependency, no offence.”

“It is. It is dependency. It’s not healthy for a normal citizen, but I am no normal citizen. I kill, I cause a mess, I destroy things more often than not. I _need_ them to _live._ Do you remember what I was like when we first met?”

He saw the Jedi shiver and even if it was a dick move, he took pleasure in it.

_Good to know that you can make a lasting impression._

(I aspire to be a nightmare, as you know.)

“But I’m not like that now. Have you ever considered, _why?”_

This time it didn’t even take a minute for the man to realize it. His eyes widened a fraction but the tension left his shoulders. Finally, he was getting it.

“You chose me and Ahsoka as your pack mates.”

He nodded.

“You started out as a means to an end. I wanted to confuse you, to get under your skin and in your head so I can have some superficial control over your side of the war. I have ways to figure out a person’s character and get to know them enough so I could make educated guesses about what would they do in a certain situation.”

“Psychological warfare.” Kenobi nodded, a little disturbed but mostly eager.

“But I miscalculated.” He confessed with an annoyed smile.

Finally, the Jedi knew instantly what he was talking about.

“You bought into it as well.”

“I kriffed up.” He barked out a laugh, leaning backwards. “I kriffed up royally. I underestimated the locks Sidious could put between me and my Team. Initially, I was planning on using you for a few months at most and then cackle in your face when I rescued them, maybe even help you if you can afford me.” He grinned and Kenobi rolled his eyes. “But as time went on you became a fixed point. I needed the control. I decided when I took and when I gave and in a normal situation, it would’ve come off as a mutually beneficial partnership. But there were two problems.”

He raised two fingers.

“One. The punishments Sidious handed out, ergo the price of my help, were more severe than the punishments of your failure, ergo the price of your help. And two. You are a Jedi.”

This threw the man off. Vader cut him off before he could speak.

_Rud-_

(Shut up.)

“Your lifestyle and philosophy did not allow you to enjoy the benefits of our makeshift deal guilt free. It was not a sustainable thing but I wanted to hold onto it. It was a stable point. And that’s not mentioning that I began to care about you lot. I found the Jedi charmingly naive all things considered and I wanted to see you come out on the other side as intact as possible. So when you offered a bond in Zygerria, either consciously or on instinct, I accepted it, stabilizing the crumbling building for a while.”

He also rolled his eyes with a groan.

“Of course something like this isn’t a game. The truth is that you _ground me_ , Kenobi. I don’t think you realize how _big_ that is. The one that now separates the galaxy from Commander Skywalker and Darth Vader… is _You._ I _care_ because of you. So whatever guilt you have about you using me for your missions, you _need to let it go._ You’re doing everyone, including _me_ , a favor by keeping me away from the depth of the Dark Side.”

He stood up and smiled at him, offering a hand.

“Thank you.”

_This is a band-aid solution at best, I hope you know that._

(Baby steps. We’ll get there.)

***

Obi-Wan did not get much time to contemplate his conversation with Vader, for only a few minutes after their heart-to-heart (if one could call it that) the _call_ came. The dark sider took a single glance at his holo projector and both his posture and face became rigid.

“Get out of the room.” He growled, reaching for the device. 

Wait.

Was that? 

“ _Now, Kenobi.”_

“But-“

Vader’s metallic hand grabbed his right arm and suddenly he was being dragged towards the bathroom. For a few seconds, he tried to free his arm, dig in his heels, anything while reaching for any excuse to stay and listen but the Sith was hearing none of it. Since Vader was stronger than him he was manhandled into the bathroom in seconds.

“Wait!”

“Stay.”

And the doors closed on his face. Locked. Obi-Wan held his breath for a few seconds, hoping against hope that the doors were not sound proof. He even went as far to push his ear against the surface. But nothing. Not even the soft murmurs reached him, let alone the exact words. Cursing his luck, he began to look for any space that might lead to the main room, like a service tunnel or air conditioning. Nothing.

“Damn you, Vader.”

And here he thought they were getting somewhere. It seems that even in his corner the beast was far from tame, let alone defanged. He did whatever he wanted and kriff everyone who did not agree. But he supposed that this was better than it could be. Usually, those who disagree with the dark sider meet the business end of his light saber.

Still, he was talking with _Darth Sidious._ Right on the _other side_ of this door.

The elusive Sith that plunged the whole galaxy in chaos. None of them even managed to get a single correct piece of _second-hand_ information about the man. For a second, he could just imagine the things he could deduce from listening in to that conversation.

In a very un-Jedi like manner, he let out a soft curse.

And promptly jumped when the door hissed open.

He found the dark sider outside, both of his hands braced against the back of the sofa. At that moment he didn’t look like the mighty Sith Lord, the dark god of the battlefield that decided a fight just by entering it. It wasn’t the first time Obi-Wan considered what kind of iron will is needed for that non-stop absolute control over oneself.

Vader drew himself up when he heard him enter.

“Bad news?”

A soft huff left the man at the question.

“No. I’m just so kriffin _tired_ of him and his games. Even know I feel like he’s chewing himself through my brain like some kind of _parasite_.”

He noticed the tenseness of his muscles and suddenly had an idea he was sure he’d regret soon.

“Would you be interested in a spar?”

***

The next morning Obi-Wan woke up with the majority of his muscles aching. Never again will he offer to spar with Darth ‘There is no limit to my energy’ Vader, ever. It took them _six hours_ to work off some part of the steam that threatened to spill over to the first unfortunate person who inconveniences the dark lord. Add to that his injury and the fatigue of being poisoned _twice_ and Obi-Wan was honestly glad to be alive.

He glanced at the clock beside the bed and grimaced. He slept for _ten hours?_ That was irresponsible, considering that an enemy Team of whatever Vader’s ex-Order’s name is could break down the door any moment. He already groaned inwardly at the idea of that confrontation. And not to mention that he still had a mission to complete. He almost managed to forget about it.

A loud crash came from the living room, followed by a groan, cursing and even more sounds of struggle. He was out of the bed and out the door before he had a chance to finish the thought of _danger danger danger-_

He opened the door just in time to see Ventress head-butt the dark sider. _Hard._ Another groan tore itself from the Sith’s chest and oh, he knew that murder in his eyes-

“What in the name of the Force is going on here?”

It was Ventress who answered, wiping away a small smudge of blood with her thumb from the corner of her mouth. “We’re just arguing, darling. Don’t bother yourself.”

“Get fucked.” Was all Vader added to the conversation, while trying to stop his nosebleed.

Why did he even try with these people?

“How about you finish arguing each other’s teeth out and we settle this beside breakfast?”

“No can do, dear. We were just about to get to the good part.”

Force help him, Ventress was not disrobing while she said that, she was _not-_

“You are not coming six feet of me before I had my kaff.” Vader shook his bloody finger at her direction while trying to wipe his face with the other hand. “If you wanted to roll around the sheets, you should’ve started with that, hun. Now the only kind of intimacy you can hope for is with my light saber.”

Then he stormed towards the dining room muttering about murderous witches (Obi-Wan chose to hear this word instead of the one he actually said. It was very similar anyway) not letting him sleep and jumping him on the couch.

Ventress watched him go with the expression of a cobra whose meal just escaped. Obi-Wan seriously contemplated leaving the suite while she was here. He still had some lingering fight-or-flight response to her presence, despite their tentative cease fire. Not to mention he did his best to not think about what these two usually did besides, seemingly, beating each other bloody. Part of him wondered how did she even manage to head-butt the Sith in the first place? Then the same part of his mind immediately remembered what kind of tactics she tried to use against him in combat and decided that it was time for this thought process to be over.

“Breakfast?” He offered, not knowing how to address… everything that just went down.

“More like lunch, honey. But sure, go ahead. It’s not every day I can get a good meal after a long night.”

“Kriff you, I’m an excellent cook!” Came Vader’s voice from the dining room.

“You season like you think a shaker’s worth of salt is for one meal only.” She yelled back.

“You just have no taste!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do the cooking this time, just stop with the yelling. I have the worst poison hangover ever.”

He was playing house with _two_ Siths now.

The next time he wakes up, Dooku will sit on the couch as well.

He shuddered at the thought.

“I’m not joking, Ventress. You follow me, you lose a limb.” With that, Vader closed the bathroom door with a loud bang.

“I love it when he lies to himself.”

Obi-Wan decided to work with an open pan, hot oil and a _lot_ of bacon. Tried to keep the noise at maximum. What happens in the bathroom should do it’s very best to stay in the bathroom. He just woke up and he was already done with this day. Unbelievable.

***

Vader hated the Dathomirian witch with _passion_.

_Poor choice of words there, buddy._

Yesterday was already down in the gutter, ending with him sleeping on the couch (since Kenobi had the audacity to pass out on the bed crossway like a family table) and anyways, he liked to sleep with the main entrance in the room. Everything about the last twenty hours was a catastrophe. He still had to finalize the deal he used as a cover story to get here in order to look for Zordon and his rats, Sidious was already sending half veiled threats towards him about getting distracted with his pet Jedi (kriff you, you try to do field job, _asshole)_.

So when he finally got a few hours to sleep, he did _not_ want to wake up to Ventress having a temper tantrum about the woes she had to endure in the Undercity. Yeah, garbage compactors, domesticated banthas and fighting rings sucked (actually no, fighting rings were _awesome_ ), all three at the same time even more so, but in which universe does that give her the right to start scratching his eyes out the second he opens the door?

Really, she should be glad that she was still in one piece, considering that he was expecting a very _different_ type of guest to try and weasel himself into his suite.

So no, Vader was not happy. In fact, he was pretty pissed.

So far his morning started with waking up before the alarm, getting his nose almost broken and then whatever that was in the shower.

_It was a very nice thing in the shower._

(It was anything **_but_** nice.)

_That’s what made it_ **nice.**

(I refuse to further engage with this wordplay, I still haven’t had my damn kaff.)

But now things have calmed down and the three of them were sitting around the table, Ventress purring at her food, Kenobi doing his best to not get syrup on his expensive robes and Vader munching on the pancakes while staring into the distance. It was a good breakfast, or lunch or whatever the time was. Good on Kenobi for managing to get under his skin enough to give him food. Few could boast about Vader not suspecting poison in the meal prepared by them.

_Tano is at the Top of the current list. If she wants to kill you, she’ll do it with a light saber._

(If I have to choose between her boiled eggs and the saber, I choose the saber.)

_Don’t ever let her hear you say that, else you might have to put your money where your mouth is._

Vader hated this calm. This was that type that lingered before the storm and it was making his nerves go haywire. So even though he wouldn’t like nothing more than to either sleep till next Sunday or blow off some steam in the bloody way, he still had a job to do. And now everything was going even _more_ bonkers because the fabricated reason for him to come her turned out to be a real problem shimmering under the surface.

One of the likely dozens of staff members who reported to the old corpse heard something that multiplied the threat of that traitor and now the bastard was getting on his case to push champaign down the guy’s trachea until he chokes and honestly?

Vader was _really_ tempted to do that.

The Dark Side purred at the thought of it, getting bitchy about being cut off from one of his Favored Ones. The Light Side was fighting to keep up connection with him as well but her attention was divided between him and Kenobi, who was one of the Beloved Envoys to her. She could only reach the man through Vader and that meant that both dark and light were hissing inside of him and Vader wanted to _choke somebody._

_Let’s go break some necks, shall we?_

(Force, _yes._ )

***

_Well, that was therapeutic._

It certainly was. Vader felt like he was walking on clouds. It’s been a while since he genuinely enjoyed himself and not just scrambled for some kind of kriffed up positive feedback in whatever destruction he allowed himself to cause. With one last gesture, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and chin, then jumped up, grabbed the wall of the arena and jumped over into the audience.

The crowd parted before him. Some people were cheering, others were smart enough to shrink back and just stay away from all forms of association with him altogether. He took the card from the Ringleader who flinched when the grin he received was filled with too much teeth and then headed for the showers. 

What a productive six hours this has been.

First, he threw some weight around Angus O’Sullivan before tonight’s Game.

***

_“Any luck?” He asked in a melodious tone, swirling the last sip of his drink on the bottom of the glass._

_“Like talking to a brick wall.”_

_Kenobi was obviously not pleased. It’s clear that his chat with Sullivan resulted with little to no results._

_“Perhaps he needs a more… forthcoming approach.”_

_The Jedi glanced up at him from the small plate in his hands, eyes squinting in suspicion._

_“You’d really cause a scene?”_

_“Not here. Not now. I’ll just lay down some ground work. Make him more… susceptible.”_

_He had no idea what thought process made Kenobi smile in such an amused way, but the man held out a hand towards his target with the universal gesture of ‘be my guest’. Vader intended to be just that. Cutting the chase, he addressed the merchant out of nowhere and before he could react, Vader captures his arm with his own, imitating the perfect picture of familiarity._

“ _I don’t know how the two of you got to be affiliated with each other.” He said low enough so only the man could hear him. “Zordon usually doesn’t waste his time with the likes of you, but I digress.” When Sullivan tried to pull his arm away, panic racing through his expression, Vader held him still. “He is not the only one you have to fear here.”_

_“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The only reason why they were not making a scene yet was because the gala was held in honor of the Diva and any sorts of scandal would result in both of them being thrown out, and man like Sullivan was already on thin ice here._

_“I think you do. You see, him and I go_ way _back. We were trained by the same Masters, actually.”_

_The merchant lost all remaining color in his face._

_“He is here now, I know. I came here to kill him. I admit I don’t care if you live or die by the end of this, you can flee and get out of my way, or try your luck and I kill you, it doesn’t matter. But.” This time he leaned closer, prompting the man to try to step back from him. Their interlocked arms didn’t allow anything of the sorts. “If you try to damage what is mine_ one more time, _you’ll step up the list of my priorities. I don’t think you want that, do you?”_

 _“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Force, his voice_ trembled.

(Go on, little fishy-fish. _Entertain us._ )

_Vader responded with a contemptuous, almost scolding smile._

_“I won’t indulge your lies, Mr. Sullivan. Just keep in mind what I’ve said.”_

_He transformed the arm-lock into a headshake and leaned close just one more time._

_“Have a nice evening. See you at the Game.”_

_He enjoyed how the man stepped away as soon as he was released, startling a few people in the crowd. They began to look at Sullivan with various types of frowns but their eyes soon landed on Vader. Now that the tension between them was visible for everyone, excited murmurs began to fill the room. Sullivan tried his best not to rub his arm, which would no doubt be filled with bruise marks by now._

_Almost done with his show, Vader turned around to leave, then made a show of remembering something, noting with an almost perverse glee how the tension returned to the man’s body._

_“Oh, and give my regards to your bodyguards. Tell them I’m still up for a spar. If they secure your leave, of course.”_

_Then he left without a second glance back. The Dark Side roared in triumph._

***

That stupid man made a Faustian deal and he only realized it once it was done. Vader doubted that the other Commander allowed him any agency in his own company. Zordon liked to worm his way into the mind of the host (be it a man, an organization or a company) and take over from the inside. The longer you try to ignore him, the worst he gets.

It reminded Vader a little to his own relationship with Sidious. That too started out like a mutually beneficial deal, a one-time thing. Sidious paid them handsomely and in exchange Vader and his team helped him to kick start the war in the perfect moment, collected the threads for him and handed them over. Vader was a master of loose ends and was always very careful not to become one himself. That’s why he enforced a no-contact policy with clients in his Team.

But he impressed Sidious too much.

Looking back, it was a lack of impulse control that let the situation turn this bad. The Sith Master was someone who just _took_ what he wanted and then tried to shape it into _exactly_ how he envisioned that piece to fit. Like a child in a shop, he wanted the biggest toy. Thought he was prepared to handle it. So he did the only thing that guaranteed a Commander for a house pet. He took his Team.

Even know, Vader had _no idea_ how that happened. He was _so, so careful_ , after all those cluster-fucks starting from the Pre-Trials, the actual Trial, that kriffin close call with the Leader and in the end, the Extinction of the Order, he triple checked _everything,_ yet somehow Sidious still managed to catch him off guard enough to pay the price. The ultimate price. So Vader did what he always done when he was cornered. He focused his fury and began to push back in small but meaningful things. He took the order but never bowed, listened to the command but never gave respect and just to be a petty ass, he even aided the enemy where he could get away with it.

Of course Darth I-solve-everything-I-don’t-like-with-Sith-lightning Sidious rose to the challenge.

There’s never been a version of this that could end without blood. The second the old corpse went after his Team, in Vader’s mind the clock started to count down. He will either kill the man or die trying, there was no middle ground. So they were stuck in this loop of passing around the bomb and the time of the explosion was nearing.

What happened to Angus happened to Sidious as well, though in a different angle.

Because Vader’s Order created people who acted like a _weed._ A relentless survivor that had no qualms about choking the life out of everything in his vicinity to get what he wanted. The second Vader figured out _who_ was he working to, it was over. He could’ve gone chasing after shadows, could’ve done that for years if Sidious was smart enough to completely evade him. But the Sith Master did not relent on that one thing. He took too much joy in watching whoever was under his boot squirm.

What a shame he stepped on a viper this time.

He’ll eventually meet the same fate as Angus, though for a different reason. They’ll be made a feast for worms. If there’s one thing Vader can give to Zordon is that man is annoyingly effective.

Which made it such pain to find him.

It was not an easy task to pick on the barely noticeable trail the other Team had left behind, but Vader had his ways. A broken down place like this, where gossip flowed with the same speed as mead. Naturally, anyone who knew Zordon enough to have any useful information would also know what they would be skinned alive should they speak too much. So Vader had to run some circles around them until he managed to find out where he should seek out ‘the best of the best’ if he needed someone to disappear without money being an issue.

So Vader took a shower, got back into his disguise and checked the time.

_Three more hours till the game._

“I trust you have a good explanation for this.”

Now _that_ was a voice he didn’t expect to hear in a gutter like this. One would think the bastard wouldn’t lower himself enough to leave the Lotus Casino and meddle with the ‘peasants’, others would argue that he would turn up his nose at the ‘elite’ as well. One way or another, Tyrannus had no business being here.

“Well then look at here! What could an ex Jedi like yourself do here in this hour, Lord Tyrannus?”

“I asked first and I am a _Sith_.”

“That’s what I said and actually no, you’ve _stated_ that I better have a reason for being here.”

The Count sent him a withering look, obviously in no mood for wordplays. Vader rolled his shoulders gestured towards one of the alleys (the fastest way back to the Lotus). The older man adjusted his cloak and hood and followed him without a word. For a while, neither of them spoke as they made their way through the darkness. Any trouble that might’ve found them withered away at the twin pair of blazing yellow eyes turned on them.

“Please tell me you didn’t leave Grievous in charge of the fleet.”

“Of course not. Admiral Trench has been entrusted with the front until one of us can return.”

“Eh, good enough.”

Another round of silence descended on them and Vader used it to try to wrap his head around what’s happening here. It’s been a while since him and the Count were at the same place outside of Flagships and Cereno. Sidious usually sent the man to more sophisticated places, leaving Vader to deal with the scum in any way he chose. And based on the fact that Tyrannus would never, _ever_ go look for him on that side of town, Sidious instructed him to find Vader _immediately_. 

“Why didn’t you send Ventress? This place doesn’t seem your-“a cat hissed and jumped down from a trash bin that spilled over on the side of the road. “Style.”

“She’s otherwise occupied with keeping an eye on Kenobi.”

“I see.” Also, now is a time good enough as any to bring that topic up. “A little birdie told me that a certain Sith Lord did not give up on his wish to turn Kenobi to the dark side. Tell me, is this sentimentalism or do you have a practical reason as well?”

The Count’s jaw muscles became stiff. So Vader wasn’t the first one who asked this question.

“He has a keen mind and a respectable skillset. It would be a shame for him to fall with the rest of that good for nothing Order.”

“This I cannot debate, but I’m afraid you are wasting your time. I highly doubt Kenobi would chose to Fall and if you push him into it, all your efforts would result in a deadly enemy.”

“I’ve yet to hear an argument against it from you, Vader.”

“I was under the misconception that everyone was on the same page about this. But it seems that the two of you cooked up your own plan, as usual. I mean, Sidious calling me and getting me out of the suite, first sending Ventress here and now _you_ while I’m away? Not subtle. Yet you chose to look for me instead of provoking him. How come?”

Something flashed in the Sith’s eyes and time seemed to still for a second. Vader and Tyrannus have never fought before. It was for their own reasons. Vader had little to no problem working with the Count and Tyrannus deemed him a necessary, if horribly annoying asset. But Tyrannus was also a Sith and an old one at that, no matter that he only turned recently. It took him a great deal of willpower to tolerate the snark of a man barely third of his age.

For the most time, they worked around each other well enough, only interacting when necessary. They didn’t test the boundaries because those were always changing. Sometimes Sidious put Vader on the same level as a simple droid, sending him out to the field, other times he gave out orders _through_ him, thus making him the Count’s superior.

It would be unwise to provoke each other when there was no need for conflict. That is why moments like this came and went without issue. Tyrannus took offence for a second and let his lack of appreciation show. Vader replied with a look that screamed ‘what are you gonna do about it?’.

When the moment passed, the Count spoke in a lower voice.

“Lord Sidious claims that you grew fond of the Jedi. You’re turning yourself into a liability.”

Vader snorted.

“Is that a threat or a warning?”

“Strangely, both. You’re an asset, Vader. Your powers and connections, even your wits when they decide to grace us with a rare appearance are important tools in our hands.” ‘Our’ most likely meaning him and Sidious. This poor bastard. How can he not see what’s _right_ _there_? Vader elevated his eyebrows and gave him half a smirk at that jab, deciding to let it go. “Your relationship with the Jedi is good mitigating propaganda. It’ll help to mend the galaxy together when the war is won. But don’t lose yourself in your role.”

His _role_? Wow. Up until this point Tyrannus was the most displeased with Vader playing buddies with the Jedi and now he has the decency to act like this was all part of some great plan?

_Though there’s a heads up I’m positive he did not intend._

(If even Tyrannus thinks this is part of an elaborate plan…)

_Then Sidious finally decided what he’ll do with this dangerous tango between the two Orders._

“I’ve always liked to play with fire.”

***

Obi-Wan had some repercussions about remaining alone with Ventress, though it was an insistent though in the back of his head. Yet he couldn’t possibly argue with Vader when the man stormed away with that _look_ in his eyes and some last second heads up about going to kill something. Honestly, the major part of him rather not know what will happen. The smaller part kicked himself for letting him go. Murdering is Vader’s form of substance abuse. It’s bad enough that war is his _job_ , he’d rather not have it be his pleasure as well.

“Don’t even consider it, darling.”

“You’ve taken up his tendency to read minds I see.”

The witch chuckled. She didn’t meet his eyes through the mirror, content on choosing a dress for herself for the gala (there are so many of those in this place. Every hour there’s a chance to rub shoulders, make deals and show teeth) she would attend to further whatever cause Vader and her tried to achieve here.

“There’s no need for the Force to know what you’re thinking. You believe that if you put a leash on the dragon he’ll lose his teeth.”

Despite Ventress giving voice to his wishful thinking, Obi-Wan found himself shaking his head with a defeated smile. There was no way Vader would ever turn peaceful. There’s simply too much chaos shimmering under his skin to not affect his environment. Obi-Wan was sure that he would combust if he had to stay put for an extended period of time.

“I just wish I could help him contain his worst impulses.”

“You’ve never really seen him succumb to his worst impulses.” Ventress’ tone was mocking, but it had a strange inflation as well, making Obi-Wan curious.

He caressed his beard for a second, considering her.

“And you did?”

“Once or twice.”

It became clear enough that she won’t say more. Obi-Wan considered her words. He liked to think that he was not one prone to lull himself into delusions. Vader was, as far as the Republic was concerned, guilty of _long_ list of crimes. Should the Separatists lose the war and manage to put him to prison, he’ll never see the light of day. Even knowing that Vader was far from being a saint, Obi-Wan wished _so much_ for a solution that would see the man free. He _knew_ Vader’s core, whatever malice he held in his heart was targeted towards people who did more than enough to deserve his ire. Revenge was not the Jedi way, yet he was not Jedi, was he?

Maybe they could convince the Senate to give the man over into Jedi custody. A rehabilitation of sorts. But no, Vader would never stay put, especially once he got his Team back. Maybe they’ll just disappear into the mist, never to be seen again. That would be acceptable, though he would miss the chaotic force in his life.

His musings were put to an end by the doors opening.

It took everything in him to stay neutral and not to spring to his feet.

“Count Dooku.”

“Master Kenobi. It’s been a while.”

“Don’t trash the suite.” Vader stepped out from behind the other Sith.

Some of the tension evaporated from his body. Vader seemed to be in a better mood. Finally the youthful jump and grace was back on his step, so he managed to blow off some steam. Without making sure that his request was granted, he went over to the dinner table, poured himself a generous amount of water and drank it in what seemed like two seconds. Only then did he look back at the Count.

“Make yourself at home. It’s your money after all.” It was accompanied with a bastardly smile. 

Dooku scoffed.

“Every day you make me question if your high maintenance is worth it.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to take that up to the Master, Tyrannus. Anyways, Kenobi, get yourself in gear. The second game is about to start and I’d rather this one be the last. We shall wrap up your mission so you can leave. No offense, but I’d rather not listen to the two of you snark each other to kingdom come.”

“And what about _your_ mission, Vader.” Tyrannus said in a particularly unhappy tone. “This is not the time for you to indulge your impulses.”

“I’ve already finished most of it, but just a few hours ago ran into… an old friend. Turns out an old _acquaintance_ of mine has made nest on this planet.”

The Count’s brows furrowed and it was clear he was expecting more. Vader looked back at him with a raised eyebrow as well, this time raising a cup of wine to his lips. Something just occurred to Obi-Wan. He realized a long time ago that Vader was answering to Sidious, but never once thought about what that meant for Vader and Dooku. They are _equals._

For some reason that made some dark satisfaction churn in his gut. Knowing the Count, the man was driven up the wall by the attitude of the Commander and there was _nothing_ he could do about it except to either challenge him or go and complain to their Master.

“If this person endangers your task, you need to report that.” The older Sith’s voice did not leave any room for argument. 

But Vader never backed down from a challenge either. He slowly walked around the table and began to approach the Separatist Leader. Oh, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. They don’t plan to engage, right? Not in a place like this.

“What does it matter? I don’t intend to let him get in my way. I’ll just do what I always do. I’ll kill him. Him and _everyone_ that stands between me and what I want.”

Dooku held his gaze. Then he said one word.

“Good.”

And the tension was over. The grin was back on Vader’s face faster than lightning and he took another sip of his drink. The two Sith stepped away from each other the same time, Vader heading for the dressing room and Tyrannus electing to take his place by the dinner table.

Obi-Wan looked at Ventress. She just shook her head with an exasperated expression and looked away. Oh, dear.

He chose to follow the younger Sith before the tension completely evaporates from the room and the Count decides to engage in a conversation. Obi-Wan did _not_ feel comfortable in the suite with three dark siders. Force knows only how oppressive the atmosphere would be if not for the field of the planet.

He only spoke when the door was shut behind him.

“I’ve never thought to see the day when someone act like that around him and not be immediately dismissed with a scowl. What’s your secret?”

“Willingness to murder.”

The man’s voice came from the closet, so Obi-Wan stayed out of it and let him change in peace. 

“Would you? Murder him, that is.”

“I most likely _will_ , eventually. For now, I just like to push his buttons.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

A few soft steps let Obi-Wan know that Vader would soon emerge from the closet. He opted to dress in black and gold as he usually would. Obi-Wan didn’t even _try_ to decipher how a robe like that should be put on. All he saw was intricate golden patterns and flowing fabric, some of it reflecting the light like obsidian, the rest of it consuming it like the void. Vader groomed his hair for a few second in front of the mirror and then turned to him with a grin.

“Don’t look at me like that. You can stick to the suit.”

“Most generous of you.” He caressed his beard with an amused smile. ”I’ve wished to ask this for a while now. How do you decide what is the best outfit for an occasion?”

Vader let out a soft hum, adjusting the folds of is robes.

“The same way like you, I imagine, only with a little more attention to the details. It’s been something that we had to pay attention since a very early age, so it’s almost like a natural instinct by now. I usually consider three things. _Who_ am I going to meet, _how_ I want to present myself and _what_ am I trying to achieve. Clothes are a language, as I’m sure your duchess told you.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at his grin.

“So what are the answers now?”

“First, I’m going to meet some rich people, both nobles and upstarts, so I need to look like one of them. Last time I was someone they’ve only heard about before and they thought me as a war General only. I’ve met their expectations in clothing, so they’re going to be caught off guard _now,_ when it really matters.”

Obi-Wan already knew this tactic. It was one of Vader’s favorites, pulling the ground from under you.

“Second, I need to present myself as a _threat._ Not only startle them, but _scare_ them. Let them spiral with the realization that I was nothing like the guy who threw his cards with twenty million because he likely had no idea how to play. Let them know they fell for the predator and they don’t know _anything_ about me.”

That makes sense, kind of. Vader played very wasteful with his money last time, despite some good hands and vicious style. For someone who’s been doing this for years, this might look like the beginners luck on the side of an aggressive, naïve young man who has no idea what’s he’s doing.

“And finally, what I want for them is to _accept_ the defeat. To shake their heads and think ‘I’ve been played all this time’ instead of ‘he found a way to cheat’. One is more likely accept a defeat from someone who proved himself equal than a person they consider beneath them.”

Vader turned to him with a full grin this time.

“It’s simple as that.”

Yes, when you put it that way.

“You and Senator Amidala would find a great many things to talk about.”

“I doubt she would even consider talking to… how did she put it last time? I can’t remember the exact insult, but I know it was spicy. Or maybe it just gave that impression because she’s so small and fierce.”

She was. There was no arguing with her when she believed that she was acting on the best interest of the people. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka learned that the hard way when they had to keep her safe from assassins right before the war broke out. 

Now Obi-Wan only had one more thing to say.

“I hope you know that I’m not getting into one of those.”

The dark sider threw his head back and laughed.

***

It’s hard for Obi-Wan to get scared nowadays. It usually occurs when someone is threatening people he is close to and he is powerless to stop that person. He doesn’t just get frightened by enemies anymore. He gets worried and sometimes caught off guard for a second (especially when it came to Vader), but fear? No.

Even know, when he walked into that room and saw the man who almost gorged his eye out barely a rotation ago smirking at him instead of the merchant he was expecting to sit in the seat, between the many things that rushed forward in his head, fear was absent. There was surprise over the fact that the Commander was either in contact with Angus O’Sullivan or simply killed him. Then frustration and a little bit of worry about what this could mean to the immediate situation and his mission as a whole.

So many questions.

Was Sullivan a puppet to the Commander?

Were the Cruel Ones behind the bombings?

Why would they do such a thing?

He mentioned something about using Obi-Wan as a bait and at that time, he thought it was about kidnapping him from the apartment, but maybe it went deeper than that.

Maybe this whole case was to get him into this nest where they could use their numeric advantage against the one they really wanted.

It would also explain why Vader said there were many clues, they just didn’t notice them. Because the bombings were done with procedures he himself was intimately familiar with?

Maybe-

Realization after realization, theory after theory formed and crashed into his brain, though his face most likely stayed stoic. All of that went through his head in a single second. Yet the process came to a screeching halt when the second passed and the silence was broken by a soft footfall behind him, signaling Vader’s entrance into the room.

Despite the Force suppression field, the temperature seemed to drop.

“Commander Skywalker! What a pleasant surprise!”

“It dismays me to find you well, Commander Werckmeister.”

Both of them were dressed in elegant (aristocratic, really) clothes in similar design and it gave Obi-Wan the impression of those robes actually being much more than simple clothes selected for a single occasion. How many weapons were hidden there? How deceiving they could be? Seemingly intricate and not fit for combat, he had no remaining misconceptions about their ability to transform with a simple twist or turn into something actually fit for a rampage.

“Come now, you are not angry about that little squabble, are you? You remember what Old Kent used to say? ‘A meeting that doesn’t starts with bruises ends with death’.”

“A sanctimonious thing from someone notorious for handing out bruises.”

Zordon threw his head back and laughed, the shrill sound echoing in the room and stirring a heavy, uncomfortable aura. Obi-Wan stole a glance to the other guests. These big players of the market with more power than Representatives in the Senates, shrinking away from the two dark figures who were now two feet away from each other, seemingly ready to draw blood. He wondered which one of them they feared more.

Zordon extended a hand towards Vader.

“Water under the bridge. What say you? Want to play a friendly _Game_?”

There was a strangle inflation in the way he said ‘game’. Whatever it was, it wasn’t poker. And most certainly wasn’t about money.

“You flatter yourself, as usual.” Vader’s voice wasn’t low, but it was _icy_. “There’s nothing for you to play with. The only thing that could give me a modicum of satisfaction would be to watch the light leave your eyes as I choke the air out of you.” Now Obi-Wan heard the smirk in his voice. “I figure you won’t bargain with that.”

But Zordon kept on grinning. He was tempted to believe the man was insane.

“But I do. Have something else, that is.”

Vader adjusted his stance, shifting to his other leg and giving more range for his right hand.

“And what would that be?”

“A clue.”

…

“A clue?”

“Yes. I happened to meet someone in the Outer Rim, just about a month ago. Well, I didn’t actually met him, only snuck a glance from afar. He was in quite a hurry, running left and right, trying to finish his task and cower up his tracks, which wasn’t even sloppy work, I can give him that-“

“To the point, Zordon, you’re starting to lose my interest and that is very dangerous.”

“Don’t I know it?” He muttered, rubbing his chin. “Anyway, as I said, I have a clue. Or more specifically, an answer.”

“You are delusional if you think that I’d actually believe anything you say.”

“No. But you’ll check it out anyway. I know you.” His voice was lower now, an actual whisper. “And when you do, when you realize what I found, I want you to remember this moment. _I_ want to be the one who pointed you that way. The second you see him, the second you talk, you’ll know why I’m so gleeful about setting up a date between the two of you. _Now_ , will you play The Game or will you force me to find another method to bring you into the fold? A less… _civil_ way.”

“You expect me to agree to a blind deal? You’ve never been a one for bargain, but you surely have to know the etiquette better than that.”

No one in their right mind would accept a blind offer like this, let alone Vader. Obi-Wan wondered how many people interested, truly interested the dark sider in the first place. He cursed his luck when the Other Commander spoke on a harsher language this time, one that Obi-Wan was unfamiliar with. Every syllable seemed to be either the strike of a whip, the deep rumble of a predator or something in between. The words carried poison even without the tone.

It made Obi-Wan’s skin crawl.

Vader replied without a second hesitation, just as fluent. His pronunciation was more fluid. There was no telling if he had the better or the worse accent in case of the foreign language, still the way he spoke carried no less venom.

Neither of them got angry or raised their voice, only the speed increased to some extent. They were more tactful than trying to have the other cower with such cheap tactics that wouldn’t work on a simple soldier, let alone a leader. Still, Vader seemed less than pleased. He was furious since the second his eyes landed on his enemy, but now he was getting more and more focused.

 _That_ let Obi-Wan know that Zordon was on the best route to seal his own fate.

Maybe he was doing that on purpose. Judged by his smug look, he knew exactly what he was playing at. He dropped a word several times, one Obi-Wan wouldn’t even attempt to pronounce. He was sure this word was the one that kept riling up the false Sith beside him, because it was always coated in a honeyed sweetness.

He used it one last time, then waited, all the while looking like the cat that got the canary.

Which made it all the sweeter when Vader finally switched back to common and after a few seconds of consideration, he replied with a simple, but firm word.

“No.”

Then Vader sat down to the table and gestured for the Game to start.

***

_What a smug bastard. He actually though you’d fall for that?_

(He is playing for something else. He knows that he could tell me that the sky is blue and I’d still check. This is not his offer, just the retreat before the waves.)

_You believe there’s really someone in that bunker?_

(I believe he’d benefit more from a ghost than a lie.)

Instead of rolling his eyes as he was urged to by every old memory. Before Zordon mastered the art of smoke and mirrors, he told quite a few blatant lies in their childhood, not really grasping it just yet. He twirled one of the chips between his fingers, keeping a watchful eye on the main event of the night right across him, lounging on his chair. Six years ago, he would’ve sneered as soon as their eyes met. Not now. Not anymore. After the Trials, many things gained a different perspective in his mind.

Zordon only had as much power over him as Vader allowed.

_Which is none._

“I raise”

Next to him, Obi-Wan pushed forwards a small column of chips. He’s made quite a fortune once he started to play boldly. The two of them already got two players out of the way and it seemed like this round will sort out another.

“I call.” He said, flipping the chip to the dealer from between his fingers.

Just like his predecessors the crystal merchant called ‘all in’. He was seemingly all too eager, even happy to get out of the ominous aura in the room without actually fleeing the scene. He spared a single glance towards the guy as he left when Vader’s superior hand inevitably took his money. With that guy out of the way only one more remained, not counting Kenobi and the self-important menace in the room.

“You’re awfully quiet.” The bastard observed, collecting his chips.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Which is a pity. We used to be so close as boys.”

“The only thing you were close with were your own benefits and that group of yes-men you call team.”

“Yet you were always working your pretty head on me.”

“Tends to happen, when one is under repeatedly sabotaged.”

Zordon grinned, a nostalgic hue in his eyes, like he was remembering something pleasant.

“Good times. I never managed to figure out why you were so angry.”

“Because you had less balls that Huang Fei. You were not a threat. You were just in my way.”

“Yet you were still too much of a pussy to kill me.”

Vader couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh, obviously to the surprise of everyone present. He just couldn’t help it. To think that through all these years, this idiot actually thought Vader let him live out of _cowardice?_ It would be one thing if back in the day his hands were clean but by the age of fifteen, he already killed three clan mates. Those were for different reasons, but still. Zordon though too much of himself.

“You think I was afraid of _you?_ You must have serious delusions about the differences between our powers.” He put down another winning hand, while he looked the man in the eyes. “It was not _I_ who decided you should live. It was Gol von’Goroth.”

He almost saw the chill go down the man’s spine and just for a second. It’s been a _long_ time since that name has been spoken. Even back in the day, few dared to utter the name of the Master of their Order, only referring to him as ‘Leader’. Even after he left the planet, Vader and his Team refrained even thinking about the man, as if a mere thought could conjure him up right where they were standing.

His own face and breathing didn’t change, yet some memories raised their heads above the surface between remembrance and oblivion in his mind. After the Trial of Shadows, the man took it upon himself to… _adjust_ some faults he saw in Vader’s training. Saying that his methods were harsh would be the understatement of the eon. During the Trial of Endurance, two dozen novices died and every day, the boy by the name of Anakin Skywalker was one of them. If not for the healers, he’d have succumbed for good any night.

Yet he pulled through. Came out on the other side, spat at the man’s feet and left without having the intention to ever come back. He only stepped foot on that good for nothing planet twice and had no intention of returning ever again.

It took Zordon exactly 3,57 seconds to answer. Way too long. His ego was damaged.

“As if you, _the prized student,_ the model to us all never went against orders before.”

“As you know, our glorious leader had a way to make sure you suffered through hell without leaving a single mark on your skin, let alone cause real injury.” It was a time for strike two. “I was wondering why he was paying attention to _you_ when I already killed others and then I realized. It wasn’t about _you._ He just wanted to establish his control over _me._ ”

_“If your enemy tries to use your shared past against you”_

_Find the foundation of his confidence._

(And shatter it)

“After that, it was so clear, almost embarrassing. You were a dog barking at the tiger. I just needed a good moment to strike.” He spread another winning hand. Ace beats King. Ironic. “So here we are.” Just then, the Dealer announced the end of the Game for that night. Vader stood up, never passing on a chance to make an impactful exit. “Good night, Commander Werckmeister. Sleep well.”

***

“I advise leaving the planet.”

Kenobi looked at him with an amused expression, his right eyebrow raised.

“Now why would I do that?”

“You wasted your time being here as it is. He was the one behind the bombings.”

The Jedi let out a huff, stirring his tea a few times before taking a sip. Based on that reaction alone, the man not only knew that this whole mission handed to him was a ruse, he already knew what he wanted to do and there would be precious few arguments that could dissuade him from his decision.

“That doesn’t mean that my work here is done.”

“Your work is literally done. There is no mystery anymore.”

“I’m not talking about the mission.”

 _Oooooh, we are so_ not _doing that._

“I see. I admit, I am surprised that you developed a fancy for arcade games, but people are full of surprises, I suppose.”

Kenobi didn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he took a glance around the restaurant. They were on one of the greater balconies, right beside the railings. A laughably vulnerable position, should an assassin try to take a shot at them, especially on a Force Blind place like this, yet neither of them were particularly worried about that. Vader trusted the Force to reach him if there’s danger and Kenobi trusted him to listen for both of them. Or, though the Jedi didn’t know that yet, four of them. He just spotted Ventress and Tyrannus approaching them on the first level besides the fountain.

“You seem distracted.”

“You know very well that I’m not even what I seem to be.”

“Usually, sure. Still, if any situation could throw you off game, it would be this one.”

_Smug bastard._

“I presume you’re talking about Zordon and the can of worms he brings along, so I’ll grab the initiative and reassure you, I am fine. He is a simple ghost of the past. He might think that our shared past holds the same weight for me as it does for him and I plan on playing on just that, but in truth, there is nothing in me but apathy.”

Kenobi hummed and took a sip of his tea.

“And his offer? You were impolite enough to choose a language that no one besides you understood.”

“My apologies for that. And don’t worry about his offer.” He stole the biscuit from beside the man’s cup, which earned him a scolding look. “I have no intention of making deals with him. Whatever information he has, his goal is without a doubt hindering me and getting under my skin.”

The Jedi hummed once more, some of the nervous tension leaving his shoulders.

“So no deal?”

“He could offer me a straight out of this current misery and I still wouldn’t take it. Not from him. And speaking about misery.” He looked up at the approaching form at the two dark siders, prompting the Jedi to do the same. “Lord Tyrannus, Ventress. I trust your tasks bore as much fruit as mine did.”

The Dathomirian Witch slid into the seat on his right, while Tyrannus occupied the one of his left, effectively taking the last available place at the dinner table. Jedi and Sith Apprentice gave each other a cold greeting, but otherwise did their best to not even look at one another. While they were posturing, Ventress reached between… Vader wasn’t even looking. How did that chip not fall out of that revealing cut, he’ll never know.

“More than fruitful, darling. It was right where you suspected. This deal is in our pocket.”

Three pair of eyes turned to Tyrannus, who just got done ordering his own tea. Ventress grabbed the chance to get something to drink. Vader mourned internally. If it weren’t for this posturing with Zordon… He’ll just buy some and restock the _Specter_ later. Yeah. Excellent idea.

“The meeting was a success, of course. We shall wrap it up after the opera.”

“Why not sooner?”

It was clear that Kenobi’s question agitated the old Sith, yet the tension was still low. _This_ is why Vader wanted the Jedi off planet. They were muddying the water as it was. He went through a great deal to make Kenobi unrecognizable in the suit and the mask (which wasn’t an unheard of accessory in a place like this, where few liked to flaunt their identity), but Vader himself was a recognizable figure and so was the Count. People will inevitably start asking questions and the more times they are seen together, the more the risk a scandal on both sides of the war.

“Ask this menace here.” And here he comes, making a jab at _him._

“You are welcome to leave.” Vader made a dismissing hand gesture. “It’s been _years_ since I heard Plavalaguna sing this particular piece. I’m staying.”

Of course, it wasn’t _just_ the singing. The Diva herself was an old acquaintance of his. It was quite a shock back then when he shadowed Kent to a mission to gain on field experience. He didn’t think the old goat had it in him to have a mistress, let alone a famous opera singer. As it lately turned out, she was one of the Order’s greatest outside sponsor. Not only did she finance some of the training grounds, she usually helped out their members when it came to large scale missions. Getting them inside and out without notice, providing both alibi and safe spots.

He hadn’t met her since the fall of the Order.

“I’d rather not leave you off the leash here. You presence has already been noted by way too many many people.”

“Then a few more wouldn’t hurt, would they?”

Tyrannus gave him a withering look, but didn’t indulge him with an argument. He most likely opted to avoid any kind of commotion that could draw even more attention to them. Too bad. Vader didn’t like to be ignored. Just for that, he’ll make a scene before he leaves this place.

“I wonder why is it too much of a request to _remain. Discreet.”_

Vader snorted and…

“If you wanted discreet, you should’ve gone for a Jedi.”

…immediately regretted opening his mouth.

Ventress let out a long suffering sigh besides him, muttering something about ‘here we go again’.

“I would, if not for that _blatant indoctrination!”_

_Oh no._

“I beg your pardon!”

_Oh no._

“Why, what would you call it, _Jedi Master Kenobi?”_

_Oh no, no, no, no, no._

“I am way too sober for this.”

Ventress - the traitor – stood up and left Vader alone in the middle. Which was fair, since it was his slip that caused the two men to launch into the argument. He rubbed his face with both hands, wondering if this day was specifically constructed to mess with him.

“If you could just let go of your pride and _admit_ that you have problems, you wouldn’t be stuck where you are right now!”

“Pride is not the way of the Jedi, Count.”

(Force, just stab me with a light saber.)

“My mistake, then. All that self-righteousness can send a message that is difficult to interpret.”

(Or a dinner knife.)

“You must be confusing us with another Order, though that is quite hard, since there’s only two major ones in game.”

(Or a fork really.)

“Yet another confusing message on your part. I was under the impression that Jedi do not meddle with politics. Last I’ve heard you were peacekeepers, not Generals.”

(Low kriffin blow, Tyrannus.)

“One has to result to extreme measure when the diplomatic approach failed so spectacularly.”

(Oh, for-)

“Either kill each other, or shut the kriff up!”

Both men turned to him. Based on their expressions, they all but forgot that he was present, which was rude? A blessing? What, the kriff, ever. He looked from one to the other, glaring daggers towards them, then he stood up, knocked back Ventress’ drink and stormed away.

“You could never deny belonging to the same Line.”

Not waiting for their offense, he used these as parting words and went to find the witch.

***

Obi-Wan watched the dark sider’s retreating back and let out a sigh.

Why was his life so complicated? All of his relationships seemed to be strained lately. His relationship with his Padawan seemed to freeze over since that disaster of a mission. Ahsoka understood why he had to do what he did, but the trust was gone. She wasn’t telling him things anymore and while it didn’t affect their shared missions yet, Obi-Wan missed the warm that used to reside in their bond, even if was a little unconventional for a Jedi duo. As long as it wasn’t attachment, he allowed it, allowed her to bloom into the confident woman and Jedi she was already becoming. It was because of said comfort that she felt confident enough to shut him out. She did what she believed was the best and not what the rules told her.

His friends, the ones he met less frequently all seemed to be more of busy acquaintances rather than friends. Padme went to a great deal to invite him for tea every time he was on Coruscant, but it was clear that she was just as stressed about the war as he was, fighting on an entirely different front. Same went for the Organas and Mon Mothma. Even his fellow Jedi were always in a hurry from one mission to the other, straining to keep the Order’s head above the water.

Satine was… her silence hurt _so much_. Not because she won’t talk to him, but because of the _guilt._ Some nights when sleep was eluding him, he had a hard time fathoming how he allowed himself to betray her so. To let her believe he was dead, knowing her feelings for him… knowing that she _knew_ they were returned. Let her ponder on the what-if…

Meeting Vader here had been a breath of fresh air. The man was familiarity. Consistent in his inconsistency. His open acceptance was the one that made him feel really just… comfortable. Not walking on egg shells. Even if Vader had his own assumptions about him, Obi-Wan never felt like he should live up to some imagine in his mind. It’s been so since the beginning of their allegiance. When he showed strength, Vader grinned at the challenge. When he showed weakness, the man teased him about it, but never made him feel lacking because of it. It was more of an encouragement to do better.

But now the dark sider was stressed on his own. That alone was enough reason to stay on planet and try to help him.

He stole a glance at the Count, who was also in deep staring contest with his tea cup. Obi-Wan had little to no doubts about the man’s conviction, yet for the life of him he couldn’t decipher his reasoning. He said that the Order was too far gone, that they needed to be ripped out root and steam, but that was the dark side talking. It _must_ have been.

He knew what the fall of an Order meant.

His thoughts were interrupted by a waiter skittishly approaching their table. The young Twi’Lek turned towards the frowning Sith Lord and swallowed silently.

“My Lord, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan felt a single amused eyebrow rise on his forehead.

Dooku’s voice was chilly when he spoke.

“Why?”

That waiter looked like he would rather be _anywhere else._

“Well… My apologies, but the fountain cannot be used as a pool and… the lady is in her… underwear…”

Obi-Wan turned around just in time to see Darth Vader, the Separatist Second in Command, one of the most dangerous men and deadliest force users in the galaxy roll into a giant fountain in the middle of a high class restaurant, fully clothed, with a bottle of expensive champaign in his hand and being immediately tackled by an almost naked Dathomirian witch and said…

“Huh.”

In Dooku’s hand, the teacup shattered into a million pieces.

***

“You are the shame of our cause, I hope you know that.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.”

They were seating in box seven, especially reserved for the two of them. Vader was already lamenting the fact that he has to sit here with his co-leader for hours because according to Dooku, he needed supervision. Maybe he shouldn’t have jumped into that fountain, but force help him, he just wanted to _relax._ Every single tissue in his body was stressed and cranky even _without_ the aches caused by the lack of Force.

Or maybe he was running out of fucks to give.

Tyrannus shot him a glare that could wither trees.

“We need flexibility anyway. You already have the strict and unrelenting side cowered. Let them believe I have foolish tendencies. If they believe they found a weakness, they wouldn’t look enough to stumble upon the real ones and give us an advantage, should it come to that.”

This placated the Sith Lord somewhat, who finally stopped fuming and turned his gaze towards the stage, where the performance was bound to start at any minute. He was no doubt trying to formulate the best was to work around this information.

“You’ve never said what you think about all of this.”

He turned towards the Sith with a raised eyebrow.

“This?”

“Our cause.”

“Ah.” He stretched the sound in realization. “I’ve never imagined you’d care.”

“I didn’t at first. I admit, I thought you another means to an end when he brought you into the fold. You are young and brash. I’ve had a hard time imagining you being useful outside the battlefield, yet you keep surprising me, though even now sometimes I think you are more trouble than good.”

Vader actually laughed at this.

Darkness descended upon the audience. The silence crept in between the lines and into the boxes. No sound was audible, as if everyone collectively held their breath. The curtains were pulled up. The music started. It was sudden and dramatic, a slap to the face. It cut through the silence like blaster shots. Then the lights came. Dozens of actors were creating a battlefield, their costumes clinging to their body.

There was no singing yet, only shouts and groans. Just the movement of bodies telling a story on their own. He had a feeling that the director was either a retired officer or someone who survived a battle without becoming a casualty, because everything was disturbingly accurate.

The music was deep and rumbling while also sharp and fast at the same time. Vader had to close his eyes for a second after a particular beat from the drums, a memory flashing in the back of his mind. He’d rather not think about the trials anymore. The drums in the deep (at least they’ve thought the sound came from drums). The grotesque moaning and groaning as it crept into their bones and mind.

“I had no idea you appreciate musicals, Lord Vader.”

_Oh, you are Lord Vader know. Just because you can actually pay attention to a performance? How would he react if he knew how much poems you could recite, the instruments you can play, or Force forbid know that you can d-_

“I more than appreciate it, to be honest. Just look at them. The perfect control and sense of rhythm, not a movement wasted.”

On stage, the fighting was more of a dance, bodies colliding and breaking apart, only to come together once again, repeating the cycle to the rhythm. There was a distinct _intent_ in every move, the impression of raw power. Now Tyrannus was looking at him with brows furrowed and Vader already knew what he was going to ask next.

“Do _you_ dance?”

Vader looked at him with a smirk.

“They tried to teach me. I don’t even know how much I remember. Our gracious Sith master took my partners away.”

“Just like I said. You keep surprising me.” Now the Count was clearly more interested in him because his torso was aligned towards him instead than the stage. “Just what kind of training did you receive?”

He considered the old Sith. Contemplated if he should tell him anything. It’s not like there was anyone who could object anymore. For him, it was basically over. Never again can he go undercover without changing his face and that was worst case scenario.

“Everything.” He said in the end, eyes back on the performance. “I need to survive the battlefield, the harshest environments, the most vicious courts and remain unrecognizable on top of that. Sometimes people just need to disappear and you need an invisible bullet.” He gestured towards his own chest. “So here I am.”

Tyrannus remained silent so Vader did the same. He still remembered every lesson like it was yesterday. The way Alia used to laugh every time she stepped on his foot or he stepped on hers.

_She used to laugh so much before the Trial of Mercy._

(None of us laughed anymore after the Trial of Mercy.)

Sometimes Vader was overcome by a vicious sense of glee when he thought about the genocide of his Order. A bunch of sick bastards who took children since their cribs and fashioned them into weapons. Made them into monsters. He doesn’t know to this day who was the one who finished them off, but he would shake their hand, if given a chance.

_At least they should’ve spared the children…_

Suddenly the familiar shape of today’s guest star emerged from under the stage.

The Diva hadn’t changed a single bit, appearance remaining as breathtaking and exotic as her voice. Still, there was heaviness in her eyes now, where joy used to reside. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much to assume that the loss of a certain Commander was the reason for that.

Tense anticipation shimmered above the crowd of people. A monologue, a storyteller preparing the audience. Then the music.

Then the _song_.

The first notes barely left the Diva’s mouth and Vader felt like he was rooted to his chair, punched in the gut. An immediate enchantment settled over him and for several seconds, he forgot to breathe.

_Well, this brings back even more memories._

He was reminded the very first expedition they took. They were so green back then, knowing everything and nothing at the same time. Not arrogant, but too self-assured. The whole mission went astray, the only peaceful moments were the first ten songs of the opera.

Of course, after that the shooting started and it took several reckless made up plans to complete the mission and get away in one piece. Right after that, listening to plays became a reoccurring thing after a mission for them. A few peaceful moments to heal, bond and reassure themselves that everyone is fine.

Vader hasn’t heard a song in almost four years now.

Before he noticed, the play was over.

“Excuse me.”

He needed some air.

***

When Obi-Wan entered the suite, he heard the shower running and frowned. That couldn’t be right. Ventress left the planet about half an hour ago and the two Sith Lords were going right to the Gala after the musical. Carefully setting put his data pad back on the table, he approached the door with silent steps, trying to decipher if he could make out any other noises beside that of the water.

No rustling, no movement. Nothing.

Cautiously, he opened the bathroom door. There was no steam inside, which meant that the running water must’ve been cold. He felt the frown grow on his face as he noticed the discarded robe on the floor. It took him a few seconds, but then he recognized the golden patterns of Vader’s coat. Only that. No boots, no pants, no anything.

“Vader?”

His next thoughts rushed to a bloody conclusion. Maybe the man met the other Commander again. Maybe they came to blows, or even worse. Maybe he didn’t even reach the opera house, maybe- Before this wave of worries managed to flood everything in his head, he crossed the room in two steps and looked into the shower.

“You shouldn’t come in without knocking. It’s impolite.”

There he was. The greatest force user the Force has ever saw fit to bless, sitting on the aquamarine tiles, looking like a discarded doll. He was just… there. Not hunched over, not curled up in a ball, just sitting. Take him out from under the icy cold water and put him on a sofa and he’d fit like a glove. But if the situation itself wouldn’t be telling enough, his voice surely would. Not to mention his eyes.

Slowly, Obi-Wan let himself crouch down outside the shower. A memory came to mind about a similar situation. Blazing yellow eyes and words full of venom and fury. Although Vader was very quiet now, there was tension in him, tainting the atmosphere. Like a wire that had been stretched to its limit, threatening to cut off the closest head as soon as he snaps.

“I’ll make sure to remember that next time.”

Nothing. He didn’t even twitch. Alright then. Slowly.

“How was the play?”

“I don’t remember.”

Very carefully, Obi-Wan slowly eased himself into the same position Vader took not even two rotations ago when he was the one who was dangerously close to the edge. He was on dangerous ground here, he had to be careful.

“Why did you leave?”

That prompted a reaction. The dark sider’s hand twitched on the tile. It took him a long minute to answer and when he did, his voice was just as toneless and his expression.

“I just felt like I might die if I sit still for another second.”

The cold water was a problem. Obi-Wan wondered if Vader could catch a serious cold like this. The icy water was hitting his head and neck directly and based on the soaked through state of his clothes, he’s been here for a while. It’s not like Force sensitive people were prone to illnesses, they were usually as healthy as one could get. But on this planet, they were cut off from the Force.

Ever so slowly, he reached out and adjusted the temperature of the water to warm. Not hot yet, that would be a disaster, but something much more room temperature. He’d raise it again later, since Vader didn’t seem to mind the change. Maybe he didn’t even notice it.

“Go on.”

Heavy shoulders produced even heavier shrugs.

“What’s there to elaborate on? What do you want me to say? That I’m cracking? That I feel like one of those _kriffin volcanoes_ on Mustafar that had been sealed for far too long while the pressure is rising sky high in the chamber?”

There was emotion in his eyes now. Even though it was fury, Obi-Wan would take it. Anything but the emptiness.

“The kriffin truth is that I’m a ticking time bomb.” He took a slightly deeper breath, but it escaped him right away, “That I feel like every kriffin day this shit is just piling on and on and on and the day when I snap is _so close._ That day whatever Sidious planted in my chest breaks free…”

Gloved fingers, metal and flesh alike sunk into soaked golden locks and once they found footing, they squeezed. Obi-Wan had to restrain himself from reaching out when Vader hunched over, his face hidden behind the arch of his elbows and let out a wounded noise. Then with the same momentum he leaned back, clearly trying to capture the previous position, but the tension _stayed_.

“I feel like I’m in a constant stage of _rage._ ” Another deep breath. “That… _creature_ … will be the bane of everything I ever loved and worked for. It _will_ go and challenge that old bastard, drunk on power and confidence and it _will…_ ” Another wounded, choked up sound left him. “It _will_ break out and it will _never stop._ ”

Their eyes met and Obi-Wan almost flinched away. He saw exactly what the man was talking about. Behind the blazing molten golf of a magma lake, he saw the creature stalking the bars of his cage. Saw it through the cracks of the mask, each and every one of them blazing by the fiery claws. Still, maybe it was just his wishful thinking, but behind all the rage and pain a mania, he saw the true man behind the face. The warrior or light and shadow, _Anakin Skywalker_ , choking the full persona of Darth Vader with both hands, resisting the countless coils of darkness that opted to do the same with him.

He was there, he just needed to be helped. Not even pulled out of that pit, just assisted. A single ray of light strong enough to show him where the Sun was. To guide him back to the edge of Dark and Light where he was always meant to be.

“No.” He said, finally moving forwards and grabbing the man’s shoulders with both hands. “I won’t let it. The only way happiness is lost is if you gave up on it. Otherwise all those suffering and pain has never been worth it. It was just red.”

The last time he clung to the shoulders of Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader pushed him away.

Now that he clung to the shoulders of Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker decided to hold on, reaching up to lock both of his forearms into steady grips. He took a deep breath, seemingly fighting with words.

“I am at the end of my rope here, Kenobi… one more step on my own… in any direction… and I’ll be lost.”

“That’s alright. You’ve fought. You’ve done your part. Now rest.”

The hold tightened on his arms.

“Let me take the last steps.”

The dark sider shut his eyes tight, letting his head fall forward a little. Obi-Wan knew that he was still clinging to something. That last bit of control that tied him to every problem he had to carry while simultaneously cutting Obi-Wan off from the roots of the problem. One last thing. One last thought.

 _“A favor is a life.”_ Vader said and it sounded like he was quoting something. Someone. “ _A helping hand is a soul. There’s no favor in family. And there is no help from strangers.”_

So that was it. Either a Code of his Order or the words of a trusted teacher. Vader showing him that last line in the sand. It was a fragile thing. Turned into a simple thread of spider silk, once you knew what it meant. Vader has done his part when he told him. Not it was his turn to cut it.

“What do I do?”

“Nothing.” The reply was barely above a whisper. “Just don’t move.”

He shifted the hold between their right arms, so Obi-Wan was holding his forearm in his palm, while Vader had yet to grasp his. He watched the interlocked limbs and felt confusion for a single second. Then he started to feel it. The Force. Even on a planet that rejected it, a place that was barren from life since life came to it willingly, the ancient power found a way to sanctify the bond that was to be born.

He felt a burning sensation in his palm, but there was no reason in the galaxy for which he’d let go now.

“ _While thy braches mix with mine.”_

The Force hummed with the strained oath. Vader grasped his hand, where another burn started.

“ _And our roots together join.”_

Then with a last shaking breath, the last of his strength left his body and the tension was _gone._

***

Obi-Wan was happy.

It’s been a long time since he felt like he had accomplished more than just a temporary victory. Something that couldn’t slip through his fingers the next week when the squabble is taken to him once again. Finally, something that will remain, never mind what kind of storms they have to weather for it. A certain, fixed point.

_“How poetic. Once the war is over, you should consider writing something pretty for your Duchess.”_

He sighed, rubbing his forehead, yet the smile was twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“ _She is not ‘my’ Duchess, Anakin. We’ve talked about this.”_

Teasing laughter echoed in his head.

“ _It’s too late to deny, you let me into your mind.”_

_“I thought we agreed not to pry each other’s memories.”_

_“I do not need to_ pry, _Anuin. Your thoughts are as loud as thunder.”_

_“My shielding is excellent.”_

_“Your shielding is commendable, but not against me. Not anymore.”_

_“Well then, try to stuff something in your ear.”_

Another round of laughter echoed through the bond. He was still getting used to it. Being in Anakin Skywalker’s Team meant three things. One, you _always_ felt that titanic presence as if it was directly around you. Mostly he was in the back, more of a support but the second Obi-Wan felt threatened, the being with the size of a supernova snarled at whatever put him in danger, usually making said cause break out in cold sweat.

No matter how many times he asked, Anakin refused to back down. He considered Obi-Wan family now and anything that was a danger to his family should be glad if it gets away with all limbs intact.

Another thing was this constant channel between them. The bond was stronger than a thousand iron chain and could be stretched out as far as needed. As long as his ‘Aetrin’ (Commander) was able to sustain the channel, there was no limit. It couldn’t be listened in on by any other force user or even other bonds tied to him.

And the third thing, the only drawback so far, was that he felt constantly restless when the two of them were separated by a large amount of space. It was a mild annoyance, barely noticeable amongst the stress of war, yet it made falling asleep a little harder.

But it was worth it.

So worth it. He saw the change in _Anakin_ (And how good it felt to leave behind the Sith name, if only in his thoughts for now). The darkness that was choking his core was pushed up to the surface, perfectly hiding the amazing changes in the core, which shone shiner than Obi-Wan had ever felt it. The lonely echo that was tainting it from day one had disappeared.

“ _You feel awfully nostalgic, Anuin.”_

Anuin. The work for Team Mate in the language of a now extinct Order.

_“I’m just thinking about less fortunate times.”_

_“Your Grandmaster would scold you for such musings.”_

_“He is not here now, is he?”_

_“Hah! You’re already thinking like a Skywalker. Good. Unfortunately, I have to go.”_

_“More Separatist business?”_

_“Hm? Oh, no. This one is something else. Something I’m sure everyone will appreciate in due time.”_

Obi-Wan caressed his beard, hiding the smile from Windu.

“ _Will it explode?”_

 _“I’m wounded! It’s as if you don’t even know me?_ Of course _it will explode.”_

This time, a small laugh slipped through. The whole Council’s eyes twitched.

“ _I apologize.”_

_“You better.”_

_“See you soon.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, see ya.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What. What was this? 51 pages of what??? Of WHAT? What was the plot? Do you see any PLOT? NO. BECAUSE THERE'S NONE.  
> (I hate this chapter, I rewrote it like 14 times, I honestly apologize if it doesn't make any sense)  
> TTT.TTT


	15. Those who fly High must fall Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I am (not) sorry

Vader loved the rain. By all means, he should’ve hated it. It made his clothes stick tighter to his clothes than optimal. Added an unwelcome amount of restriction to his agility and speed, not to mention the slippery surfaces. But he loved it. Water was falling, freely, from the sky. Something like that never ceased to amaze him. 

He stood on the roof and let it wash over him. The wind was stronger up here and if not for his sure footing, his billowing cloak might’ve caused some balance issues. But not to him. He could keep his balance on one hand in the middle of an ungodly storm. A little rain will not get the better of him.

“ _Anakin?”_

He opened his eyes at the voice in his head. It was still so hard to believe. He had a Team Mate in his head. There was no silence anymore. For now, he had to maintain a basic shielding between the two of them until the Jedi gets a hang of this new type of bond, but it was still _everything_.

_“Yes?”_

_“Are you alright? You feel… melancholic.”_

He looked down at the city under his feet and couldn’t help but agree. He was feeling tired lately. Drained. Running from one errand to the next for Sidious took out a lot of him. It seems the old goat was starting to realize the deadliness of the viper he caged and tried to keep him busy.

He was nearing the end of his plans.

(We are nearing the end of our usefulness.)

_“I am fine. Just tired.”_

He never lied to his team. Never. And unlike with Ventress, Kenobi’s worry didn’t annoy him. He was starting to distrust the witch. They had a good run and a lot of fun, but she saw the writing on the wall the same way he did. He knew that one of her legs was out the door. If not for the fear of Sidious setting Vader on her, she’d be long gone by now.

How would their mess of a relationship blow up before this ends? Vader didn’t want to kill her, yet she knew so much… In a way, Vader made the same mistake Sidious did. Let a loose end become too loose. In a way, everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ventress was trying to bide her time. Vader was doing the same, though he rarely had the luxury of time.

She knew too much. She _knew_ that she knew too much. She didn’t betray him yet. Didn’t even dare to think about it, knowing all too well that Vader was in her mind. But it occurred to her. Again and again, she was tempted.

_You’ve killed a lover before. You can do it again._

He can’t. Not really. _Her_ death was just… it was too violent. On his dark days, he still felt her pulse under his fingers, her grip of his wrists, saw the look of _you or me_ whenever he closed his eyes. He shuddered.

_“-nakin. Can you hear me, Anakin? Please, answer.”_

_“I can… I’m sorry.”_

_“Hey, none of that.”_ A long silence ensued. _“Do you want to talk about it?”_

 _“No.”_

His reply was too fast. Too urgent. He felt the Jedi’s slight hurt through the bond, but there was mostly understanding and he was grateful for that. He cannot talk about _her._ Never did, to anyone, not even his Team. She was dead and gone, though the poison of her memory still made his heart ache. Maybe it would help to drain the wound. Let the bad blood out. To _confess._ Maybe.

(Guess we’ll never find out)

The time was up. Thirty minutes have passed. A few seconds later, he closed his eyes and let his skin count the signals, which came in the form of long and short buzzes from the metal band around his wrist. The simplest kind of communication. The only one this place is unable to pick up.

C.L.E.A.R.

He took a step forward into the nothingness. The ocean moaned somewhere in the deep. He wasn’t planning on falling that long. His swing was soundless and his aim perfect, despite the turbulent thoughts ravaging his mind. His foot came in contact with the platform without a single sound, like a shadow descending with the parting of the sun. With a push of a button, the hook released its hold and slid back into the metal rod in his right hand.

He slid inside the room through the open balcony door. 

Fives was dripping with water, though not from standing in the rain like he did. He was soaked on purpose, walking in here leaving a trail a water, so no eyebrows will be raised when Vader left the room, leaving another trail of water.

“Everything’s clear, My Lord. They all move according to the schedule. Here are the cards.”

“Good work. Stay out of sight until I return.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

It’s been three months since he replaced a newbie guard here with Fives. He had no other job than to observe and get him a copy of the necessary security cards. He sent the schedule to a signal receiver every night through the same code he communicated with him a minute ago. The receiver translated the signals and created a time table for everyone in the building. Based on that information, Vader made a way in and a way out of this place without a chance of being noticed. 

The spare clone armor was in the side storage room as prepared. Alongside another clone, his height would be an immediate tell, but through the security feed, there would be nothing to measure against. Within ten additional minutes, he was in the Genesis Chamber.

He wasn’t particularly nervous about anyone noting his out of shift movements. Fives took some dinner every night to the clones responsible for the security feed. As long as they didn’t see someone run up and around with a light saber, they didn’t pay attention. 

He slipped a data disc containing a prewritten virus into the main computer responsible for creating the chips and let it work in silence.

_“Will you tell me what’s going on?”_

“ _What makes you think anything is going on?”_

_“I’m starting to learn what these feelings mean, Anakin, and right now, you’re in a state of hyper awareness, yet you don’t use the force. Are you on another mission?”_

Vader felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. There were other explanations for this, both of them knew, yet Kenobi was trying to keep him talking. Up until three weeks ago, he too was fooled by the many faces of a Commander. Thinking that someone was hiding their pain through nonchalance and bad jokes and actually feeling the multiple layers of anger and desperation shimmering under the surface were two _vastly_ different experiences.

The Jedi was truly worrying for him.

Touching.

The program was ready.

“Ready for input.”

Vader removed the helmet and looked straight into the holo recorder.

“Execute order 57”

***

Vader couldn’t really recall much of the… meeting. He remembered going in, half-mad with suppressed panic and remembered the Jedi Master… what was her name? He knew her… liked her…

Doesn’t matter… she’s dead…

(Did I kill her?)

_…I have no idea._

He remembered Sidious talking, he never _stops talking_ but the words escaped in his memory. Everything did. Only that sensation remained. The miserable, wretched, agonizing, unbearable sensation of _burning_ -

Oh Force… Oh Force…

(He’s _dead._ He died _burning alive_ and it’s my fault…)

 _The Jedi’s fault!_ She _was the one who got caugh-_

(I INVOLVED THEM)

This was on him. Force, this was all him. Leo died screaming and Vader screamed with him, because Leo was _awake_ when it happened, linked to him and when he burned, Vader burned too. He screamed his throat bloody, not just during but after, after Sidious told him, ordered him, after he was back in his room (how did he get back to his room?), after, after, after…

A choking sound escaped from him, his throat and chest flared up in pain, but let it happen.

He’s dead…

What was he supposed to do…

Leo was dead.

He died alone.

He was dead.

Vader wished he’d died with him.

***

Obi-Wan was worried _sick._

Everything has gone sideways so fast. How did this happen? One moment, he was happy to contact Anakin through the bond, letting him know that they finally began to properly scout the buildings which held his team, trying to give him something that would cheer him out of his melancholy. Then Shaak Ti disappeared. Got caught, most likely. Master Yoda said she was alive for a few more hours, though clouded in darkness. And then she died. To whom, nobody knew. He tried to contact Anakin again through the bond, but the Commander shut him out _completely,_ built an impenetrable wall between them, which only gave him a sensation of regret and panic when he tried to pry himself through it.

And then the burning came.

He was in the middle of the Council meeting, discussing what to do with the sudden news of Council Member Shaak Ti’s death when the pain came, without warning and without mercy. He doubled over in his chair and for a second his mind was sure he’d die right there. Soon, but not soon enough, the burning faded, but it was replaced by new emotions.

Realization.

Mortification.

Denial.

Bargaining.

And then grief. Grief so strong it paralyzed him for a minutes.

Luckily for him, the rest of the Council acted quickly, realized that the sensations came from the bond and blocked it with every technique they managed to use. After a few hours, the collapsed wall on the other end built itself up again, slower than the last time. Master Yoda said it looked more like an instinctive gesture than an intentional one.

Anakin has been silent since.

He knew why. Force, did he _know,_ even if the knowledge made him sick to his stomach, this time all on his own. One of the original team mates was dead. Sidious figured out their plot and retaliated in a way he knew would bring the Commander to heel forever. He burned that poor man alive and made Anakin _feel_ it, probably rubbed salt in the wound and made further threats when he was finished.

And Anakin was silent.

It scared him. The silence. He rarely experienced fear this _raw_ , so potent that no amount of meditation could ease him out of it. He was terrified that Anakin would do something reckless, that he would get _himself_ hurt. He was afraid the man will do that _on purpose._

Everything was over.

There could be no more tenuous alliance between the Jedi and the Commander.

No more help.

No more bargains.

They were trying to stay away from the bloody part of the war, tried to keep the cheer up to cope with the sheer magnitude of this misery event, only for it to swing back with full force and knocking down everything they managed to build during the last four years.

Obi-Wan buried his eyes in the palms of his hands and wished he could weep.

Maybe he did. He didn’t remember much of the first night.

It’s been almost a week since the tragedy. There was no sighting of the Commander since, which made his worries rise even higher. He was constantly prying at the wall between them, but all he got for his troubles were smoke and sand. No emotion, just void. Everything would’ve been better than the void. He could take rage, grief, accusations, _anything._

But only silence was his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst has caught up with me. Force help my soul...


End file.
